^ilii#s 


,^^rf?^ 


IS 


/A  2  6.  23 


3frnm  ll^r  Sthrarg  of 

tlyp  SItbrarg  of 
Prinreton  Slljwlngtral  S^Fmtitarg 

BR"  1 62  .  M 5  4  TS  7  2   v  .  3 
Milman,  Henry  Hart,  1791- 

1868. 
The  history  of  Christianity 

from  the  birth  of  Christ  t< 


V l_ ' ' 

HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY 


THE    BIRTH    OF    CHEIST    TO    THE    ABOLITION    OF 
PAGANISM  IN  THE  ROj^IAN  EJUPIRE. 


By  henry  hart  MILMAN,  D.D., 

DEAX  OF  ST.   PAUI/S. 


IN     THREE    VOLUMES. 

VOL.  III. 


A     NEW     AND      REVISED      EDITION. 


NEW   YORK: 

W.  J.  WIDDLETOiS^  PUBLISHER. 

1872. 


JOHN       WILSON       AND       SON, 

Cambridge. 


CONTENTS  OF  VOL.  III. 


BOOK  mi.  — Continued, 


CHAPTER    Yl.  — Continued. 

Paga 

Julian 5 


CHAPTER    Vn. 
Valentinlan  and  Valens 34 

CHAPTER    Vm. 
Theodosius  —  Abolition  of  Paganism 63 

CHAPTER    IX. 

Theodosius  —  Triumph  of  Trinitarianism  —  The  Great  Prel- 
ates of  the  East 104 

CHAPTER    X. 
The  Great  Prelates  of  the  West. 155 

CHAPTER    XI. 

Jerome  —  The  Monastic  System 195 

[ill] 


iv  CONTENTS  OF  VOL.  III. 

BOOK  lY. 

CHAPTER    I. 

Page 
The  Roman  Empire  under  Christianity 243 

CHAPTER    n. 
Public  Spectacles 310 

CHAPTER    HI. 
Christian  Literature 354 

CHAPTER    IV. 
Christianity  and  the  Fine  Arts 876 

CHAPTER    V. 
Conclusion 411 

Lndex 433 


HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


BOOK    III.  — Continued. 


Philosophers. 


CHAPTER   Yl.  — Continued. 

Julian. 

Instead  of  the  Christian  hierarchy,  JuHan  hastened  to 
environ  himself  with  the  most  distinguished 
of  the  Heathen  philosophers.  Most  of  these, 
indeed,  pretended  to  be  a  kind  of  priesthood.  Inter- 
cessors between  the  deities  and  the  world  of  man,  they 
wrought  miracles,  foresaw  future  events  ;  they  pos- 
sessed the  art  of  purifying  the  soul,  so  that  it  should 
be  re-united  to  the  Primal  Spirit :  the  Divinity  dwelt 
within  them. 

The  obscurity  of  the  names  which  Julian  thus  set 
up  to  rival  in  popular  estimation  an  Athanasius  or  a 
Gregory  of  Nazianzum,  is  not  altogether  to  be  ascribed 
to  the  final  success  of  Christianity.  The  impartial 
verdict  of  posterity  can  scarcely  award  to  these  men  a 
higher  appellation  than  that  of  sophists  and  rhetori- 
cians. The  subtlety  and  ingenuity  of  these  more  im- 
aginative, perhaps,  but  far  less  profound,  schoolmen  of 
Paganism,  were  wasted  on  idle  reveries,  on  solemn 
trifling,  and  questions  which  it  was  alike  useless  to 
agitate  and  impossible  to  solve.     The  hand  of  death 

[51 


6  MAXIMUS.  Book  III. 

was  alike  upon  the  religion,  the  philosophy,  the  elo- 
quence, of  Greece ;  and  the  temporary  movement 
which  Julian  excited  was  but  a  feeble  quivering,  a  last 
impotent  struggle,  preparatory  to  total  dissolution. 
Maximus  appears,  in  his  own  time,  to  have  been  tho 
most  eminent  of  his  class.  The  writings  of  Libanius 
and  of  lamblichus  alone  survive,  to  any  extent,  the 
general  wreck  of  the  later  Grecian  literature.  The 
genius  and  the  language  of  Plato  were  alike  wanting 
in  his  degenerate  disciples.  Julian  himself  is  perhaps 
the  best,  because  the  plainest  and  most  perspicuous, 
writer  of  his  time  ;  and  the  "  Cassars  "  may  rank  as  no 
unsuccessful  attempt  at  satiric  irony. 

Maximus  was  the  most  famous  of  the  school.  He 
had  been  among  the  early  instructors  of  Ju- 
lian. The  emperor  had  scarcely  assumed  the 
throne,  when  he  wrote  to  Maximus  in  the  most  urgent 
and  flattering  terms :  life  was  not  life  without  liim.^ 
Maximus  obeyed  the  summons.  On  his  journey 
through  Asia  Minor,  the  cities  vied  with  each  other  in 
doing  honor  to  the  champion  of  Paganism.  When  the 
emperor  heard  of  his  arrival  in  Constantinople,  though 
engaged  in  an  important  public  ceremonial,  he  broke 
it  off  at  once,  and  hastened  to  welcome  his  philosophic 
guest.  The  roads  to  the  metropolis  were  crowded 
with  sophists,  hurrying  to  bask  in  the  sunshine  of  im- 
perial favor .2  The  privilege  of  travelling  at  the  public 
cost  by  the  posting  establishment  of  the  empire,  so 
much  abused  by  Constantius  in  favor  of  the  bishops, 
was  now  conceded  to  some  of  the  philosophers.    Chry- 

1  F.pist.  XV.    The  nameless  person  to  whom  the  first  epistle  is  addressed 


is  declared  superior  to  Pythagoras  ^r  Plato.  —  Epist.  i.  p.  3 


2. 

2  The  severe  and  grave  Prisons  despised  the  youths  who  embraced  philoso- 
phy as  a  fashion.  KopviSavnuvrtov  knl  ao<^ia  /xeipaiduv.  —  Vit.  Prise,  apud 
Eunap.,  Ed.  Boisson.  p.  67. 


Chap.  VI.  MAXIMUS.  7 

santhius,  another  sopliist  of  great  reputation,  was 
more  modest  and  more  prudent ;  he  declined  the  daz- 
zling honor,  and  preferred  the  philosophic  quiet  of  his 
native  town.  Julian  appointed  him,  mth  his  wife,  to 
the  high-priesthood  of  Lydia ;  and  Chrysanthius,  with 
the  prophetic  discernment  of  worldly  wisdom,  kept  on 
amicable  terms  with  the  Christians.  Of  Libanius, 
Julian  writes  in  rapturous  admiration.  lamblichus 
had  united  all  that  was  excellent  in  the  ancient  phi- 
losophy and  poetry  ;  Pindar,  Democritus,  and  Orpheus, 
were  blended  in  his  perfect  and  harmonius  syncretism. ^ 
The  wisdom  of  lamblichus  so  much  dazzled  and  over- 
awed the  emperor  that  he  dared  not  intrude  too  much 
of  his  correspondence  on  the  awful  sage.  "  One  of  his 
letters  surpassed  in  value  all  the  gold  of  Lydia."  The 
influence  of  men  over  their  own  age  may  in  general 
be  estimated  by  the  language  of  contemporary  writers. 
The  admiration  they  excite  is  the  test  of  their  power, 
at  least  with  their  own  party.  The  idolatry  of  the 
philosophers  is  confined  to  the  few  initiate ;  and  even 
with  their  own  party,  the  philosophers  disappointed 
the  high  expectations  which  they  had  excited  of  their 
dignified  superiority  to  the  baser  interests  and  weak- 
nesses of  mankind.  They  were  by  no  means  proof 
against  the  intoxication  of  court  favor ;  they  betrayed 
their  vanity,  their  love  of  pleasure.  Maximus  him- 
self is  accused  of  assuming  the  pomp  and  insolence 
of  a  favorite  ;  the  discarded  eunuchs  had  been  replaced, 
it  was  feared,  by  a  new,  not  less  intriguing  or  more 
disinterested,  race  of  courtiers. 

To  the  Christians,  Julian  assumed  the  language  of 
the  most  liberal  toleration.  His  favorite  orator  thus 
described  his  policy :    "He  thought  that  neither  fire 

1  Epist.  XV. 


8  JULIAN  — HIS   SARCASTIC  TONE.  Book  III. 

nor  sworcl  could  change  the  faith  of  mankind :  the 
Toleration  ^^^^^^  disowns  the  hand  which  is  compelled 
of  Julian.  Y)j  terror  to  sacrifice.  Persecutions  only 
make  hypocrites  who  are  unbelievers  throughout  life, 
or  martyrs  honored  after  death."  ^  He  strictly  prohib- 
ited the  putting  to  death  the  Galileans  (his  favorite 
appellation  of  the  Christians),  as  worthy  rather  of 
compassion  than  of  hatred.^  "  Leave  them  to  punish 
themselves,  poor,  blind,  and  misguided  beings,  who 
abandon  the  most  glorious  privilege  of  mankind,  the 
adoration  of  the  immortal  gods,  to  worship  the  moul- 
dering remains  and  bones  of  the  dead."  ^  He  did  not 
perceive  that  it  was  now  too  late  to  re-assume  the  old 
Roman  contempt  for  the  obscure  and  foreign  religion. 
Christianity  had  sat  on  the  throne ;  and  disdain  now 
sounded  like  mortified  pride.  And  the  language,  even 
the  edicts,  of  the  emperor,  under  the  smooth  mask  of 
gentleness  and  pity,  betrayed  the  bitterness  of  hos- 
tility. His  conduct  was  a  perpetual  sarcasm.  It  was 
the  interest  of  Paganism  to  inflame,  rather  than  to 
allay,  the  internal  feuds  of  Christianity.  Julian  re- 
voked the  sentence  of  banishment  pronounced  against 
His  sarcastic  Ariaus,  Apolliiiariaiis,  and  Donatists.  He 
*°°®"  determined,  it  is  said,  to  expose  them  to  a 

sort  of  public  exhibition  of  intellectual  gladiatorship. 
He  summoned  the  advocates  of  the  several  sects  to 
dispute  in  his  presence,  and  presided  with  mock 
solemnity  over  their  debates.  His  own  voice  was 
drowned  in  the  clamor,  till  at  length,  as  though  to 

1  Liban.  Orat.  Parent,  v.  i.  p.  562. 

2  He  asserts,  in  his  7th  epistle,  that  he  is  willing  neither  to  put  to  death 
nor  to  injure  the  Christians  in  any  manner;  but  the  worshippers  of  the  gods 
were  on  all  occasions  to  be  preferred,  —  TtpOTifxaadai.     Compare  Epist.  lii. 

3  His  usual  phrase  was.  "  worshippers  of  the  dead,  and  of  the  bones  of 
men  " 


Ch.u>.  VI.  PRIVILEGES   WITHDRAWN.  9 

contrast  them,  to  their  disadvantage,  with  the  wild 
barbarian  warriors  with  whom  he  had  been  engaged, 
— "  Hear  me,"  exclaimed  the  emperor:  ''the  Franks 
and  the  Alemanni  have  heard  me."  "  No  wild  beasts," 
lie  said,  "  are  so  savage  and  intractable  as  Christian 
sectaries."  He  even  endnred  personal  insult.  The 
statue  of  the  "  Fortune  of  Constantinople,"  bearing 
a  cross  in  its  hand,  had  been  set  up  by  Constantine. 
Julian  took  away  the  cross,  and  removed  the  deity  into 
a  splendid  temple.  While  he  was  employed  in  sacri- 
fice, he  was  interrupted  by  the  remonstrances  of  Maris, 
the  'Arian  Bishop  of  Chalcedon,  to  whom  age  and 
blindness  had  added  courage.  "  Peace ! "  said  the 
emperor;  "blind  old  man,  thy  Galilean  God  will  not 
restore  thine  eyesight."  "  I  thank  my  God,"  answered 
Maris,  "  for  my  blindness,  which  spares  me  the  pain 
of  beholding  an  apostate  like  thee."  Julian  calmly 
proceeded  in  his  sacrifice. ^ 

The  sagacity  of  Julian  perceived  the  advantage  to 
be  obtained  by  contrasting  the  wealth,  the  power,  and 
the  lofty  tone  of  the  existing  priesthood  with  the  hu- 
mility of  the  primitive  Christians.  On  the  occasion 
of  a  dispute  between  the  Arian  and  orthodox 

.       -r^  ,  r.  T       1      •  11         Taunts  their 

party  m  Ldessa,  he  confiscated  their  wealth,    professions 

^        *'  '  'of  poverty. 

in  order,  as  he  said,  to  reduce  them  to  their 
becoming  and  boasted  poverty.     "  Wealth,  according 
to  their  admirable  law,"  he  ironically  says,  ''  prevents 
them  from  attaining  the  kingdom  of  heaven."  ^ 

But  his  hostility  was  not  confined  to  these  indirect 
and  invidious  measures,  or  to  quiet  or  in-    pri^iwes 
suiting  scorn.     He  began  by  abrogating  all    "^"tiidrawn. 
the  exclusive  privileges  of  the  clergy ;  their  immunity 
from  taxation,  and   exemptions  from   public   duties. 

1  Socrates,  iii.  12.  2  Socrates,  iii.  13. 


10  EDUCATION  OF  THE  HIGHER   CLASSES.      Book  III. 

He  would  not  allow  Christians  to  be  prefects,  as  their 
law  prohibited  their  adjudging  capital  punishments. 
He  resumed  all  the  grants  made  on  the  revenues  of 
the  municipalities,  and  the  supplies  of  corn  for  their 
maintenance.  It  was  an  act  of  more  unwarrantable 
Exclusion      vct  politic  tyranny  to  exclude  them  altogether 

from  public      "1  ,  ''.-,.        ''^  .  ^  p  °        . 

education.  Irom  thc  public  education.  Bj  a  lamiliarity 
with  the  great  models  of  antiquity,  the  Christian  had 
risen  at  least  to  the  level  of  the  most  correct  and 
elegant  of  the  Heathen  writers  of  the  day.  Though 
something  of  Oriental  expression,  from  the  continual 
adoption  of  language  or  of  imagery  from  the  Sacred 
Writings,  adhered  to  their  style,  yet  even  that  gives 
a  kind  of  raciness  and  originality  to  their  language, 
which,  however  foreign  to  the  purity  of  Attic  Greek, 
is  more  animating  and  attractive  than  the  prolix  and 
languid  periods  of  Libanius,  or  the  vague  metaphysics 
of  lamblichus.  Julian  perceived  the  danger,  and  re- 
sented this  usurpation,  as  it  were,  of  the  arms  of 
Paganism,  and  their  employment  against  their  legiti- 
mate parent.  It  is  not,  indeed,  quite  clear  how  far,  or 
in  what  manner,  the  prohibition  of  Julian  affected  the 
Education  of  Christians.     A  general  system  of  education, 

the  higher         n  ->        n  ^  •  i 

classes.  lor  tlic  Ircc  aiid  superior  classes,  had  gradu- 
ally spread  through  the  empire.^  Each  city  maintained 
a  certain  number  of  professors,  according  to  its  size 
and  population,  who  taught  grammar,  rhetoric,  and 
philosophy.  They  were  appointed  by  the  magistracy, 
and  partly  paid  from  the  municipal  funds.  Vespasian 
first  assigned  stipends  to  professors  in  Rome,  the  An- 
tonines  extended  the  establishment  to  the  other  cities  of 
the  empire.     They  received  two  kinds  of  emoluments, 

1  There  is  an  essay  on  the  professors  and  general  system  of  education,  b\f 
Monsieur  Naudet,  M^m.  de  I'lnstitut,  vol.  x.  p.  399. 


Chap.  VI.    EDUCATION   OF  THE  HIGHER   CLASSES.  11 

the  salary  from  the  city,  and  a  small  fixed  gratuity 
from  their  scholars.  They  enjoyed  considerable  immu- 
nities, exemption  from  military  and  civil  service,  and 
from  all  ordinary  taxation.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that 
this  education,  as  originally  designed,  was  more  or  less 
intimately  allied  with  the  ancient  religion.  The  gram- 
marians, the  poets,^  the  orators,  the  philosophers,  of 
Greece  and  Rome,  were  the  writers  whose  works  were 
explained  and  instilled  into  the  youthful  mind.  "  The 
vital  principle,  Julian  asserted,  in  the  writings  of 
Homer,  Hesiod,  Demosthenes,  Herodotus,  Thucydides, 
Isocrates,  Lysias,  was  the  worship  of  the  gods.  Some 
of  these  writers  had  dedicated  themselves  to  Mercur}^, 
some  to  the  Muses.  Mercury  and  the  Muses  were  the 
tutelar  deities  of  the  Pagan  schools."  The  Christians 
bad  glided  imperceptibly  into  some  of  these  offices, 
and  perhaps  some  of  the  professors  had  embraced 
Christianity.  But  Julian  declared  that  the  Christians 
must  be  shameful  hypocrites,  or  the  most  sordid  of 
men,  who,  for  a  few  drachms,  would  teach  what  they 
did  not  believe.2  The  emperor  might,  with  some 
plausibility,  have  insisted  that  the  ministers  of  public 
instruction  paid  by  the  state,  or  from  public  funds, 
should  at  least  not  be  hostile  to  the  religion  of  the  state. 
If  the  prohibition  extended  no  farther  than  their  ex- 
clusion from  the  public  professorships,  the  measure 
might  have  worn  some  appearance  of  equity  ;  but  it 
was  the  avowed  policy  of  Julian  to  exclude  them,  if 
possible,  from  all  advantages  derived  from  the  liberal 

1  Homer,  then  considered,  if  not  the  parent,  the  great  authority  for  the 
Pagan  mythology,  was  the  elementary  schoolbook. 

2  When  Christianity  resumed  the  ascendency,  this  act  of  intolerance  was 
adduced  in  justification  of  the  severities  of  Theodosius  against  Paganism. 
"  Petunt  etiam,  ut  illis  privilegia  deferas,  qui  loquendi  et  docendi  nostris  com- 
munem  usum  Juliani  lege  proxima  denegarunt."  —  Ambros.,  Epist.  Resp.  ad 
Symmach. 


12  EDUCATION  OF  THE  HIGHER   CLASSES.     Book  III. 

sUidj  of  O-reek  letters.  The  original  edict  disclaimed 
the  intention  of  compelling  the  Christians  to  attend 
the  Pagan  schools  ;  but  it  contemptuously  asserted  the 
right  of  the  governmont  to  control  men  so  completely 
out  of  their  senses,  and,  at  the  same  time,  affected 
condescension  to  their  weakness  and  obstinacy.^  But, 
if  the  emperor  did  not  compel  them  to  learn,  he  for- 
bade them  to  teach.  The  interdict,  no  doubt,  extended 
to  their  own  private  and  separate  schools  for  Hellenic 
learning.  They  were  not  to  instruct  in  Greek  letters 
without  the  sanction  of  the  municipal  magistracy.  He 
added  insult  to  this  narrow  prohibition :  he  taunted 
them  with  their  former  avowed  contempt  for  human 
learning ;  he  would  not  permit  them  to  lay  their  pro- 
fane hands  on  Homer  and  Plato.  "  Let  them  be  con- 
tent to  explain  Matthew  and  Luke  in  the  churches 
of  the  Galileans."  ^  Some  of  the  Christian  professors 
obeyed  the  imperial  edict.^  Proaeresius,  who  taught 
rhetoric  with  great  success  at  Rome,  calmly  declined 
the  overtures  of  the  emperor,  and  retired  into  a  pri- 
vate station.  Musonius,  a  rival  of  the  great  Proasre- 
sius,  was  silenced.  But  they  resorted  to  an  expedient 
which  shows  that  they  had  full  freedom  of  Christian 
instruction.  A  Christian  Homer,  a  Christian  Pindar, 
and  other  works,  were  composed,  in  which  Christian 
sentiments  and  opinions  were  interwoven  into  the  lan- 
guage of  the  original  poets.  The  piety  of  the  age 
greatly  admired  these  Christian  parodies,  whicli,  how- 

1  Julian.  Epist.  xlii.  p.  420.  Socrates,  v.  18.  Theodoret,  iii.  8.  Sozomen, 
V.  18.     Greg.  Naz.  Or.  iii.  p.  51,  96,  97. 

2  Julian.  Epist.  xlv. 

3  The  more  liberal  Heathens  were  disgusted  and  ashamed  at  this  measure 
of  Julian.  "  Illud  autem  erat  inclemens  obruendum  perenni  silentio,  quod 
arcebat  docere  magistros,  rhetoricos,  et  grammaticos,  ritus  Christiani  ciil* 
tores."  —  Amm.  Marcell.  xx.  c.  10. 


Chap.  TI.  ARTS  OF  JULIAIET,  13 

ever,  do  not  seem  to  have  maintained  their  ground 
even  in  the  Christian  schools.^ 

Julian  is  charged  with  employing  unworthy  or  in- 
sidious arts  to  extort  an  involuntary  assent 

•'  Arts  of  Julian 

to  Paganism.  Heathen  symbols  everywhere  *«  undermine 
replaced  those  of  Christianity.  The  medals 
display  a  great  variety  of  deities,  with  their  attributes. 
Jupiter  is  crowning  the  emperor ;  Mars  and  Mercury 
inspire  him  with  military  skill  and  eloquence.  The 
monogram  of  Christ  disappeared  from  the  Labarum, 
and  on  the  standards  were  represented  the  gods  of 
Paganism.  As  the  troops  defiled  before  the  emperor, 
each  man  was  ordered  to  throw  a  few  grains  of  frank- 
incense upon  an  altar  which  stood  before  him.  The 
Christians  were  horror-stricken,  when  they  found  that, 
instead  of  an  act  of  legitimate  respect  to  the  emperor, 
they  had  been  betrayed  into  paying  homage  to  idols. 
Some  bitterly  lamented  their  involuntary  sacrilege, 
and  indignantly  threw  down  their  arms ;  some  of 
them  are  said  to  have  surrounded  the  palace,  and, 
loudly  avowing  that  they  were  Christians,  reproached 
the  emperor  with  his  treachery,  and  cast  down  the 
largess  that  they  had  received.  For  this  breach  of 
discipline  and  insult  to  the  emperor,  they  were  led  out 
to  military  execution.  They  vied  with  each  other,  it  is 
said,  for  the  honors  of  martyrdom.^  But  the  bloody 
scene  was  interrupted  by  a  messenger  from  the  em 
peror,  who  contented  himself  with  expelling  them  from 
the  army,  and  sending  them  into  banishment. 

1  After  the  death  of  JuHan,  they  were  contemptuously  thrown  aside  by  the 
Christians  themselves.  Tuv  Se  ol  ndvoL  ev  rij  l(TO)  iirj  ■ypa<p7jvat  Xoyl^ov- 
rat.  —  Socrates,  E.  H.  jii.  16. 

2  Jovian,  Valentiniau,  and  Valens,  the  future  emperors,  are  said  to  have 
been  among  those  who  refused  to  serve  in  the  army.  Julian,  however,  de- 
clined to  accept  the  resignation  of  the  former. 


14  PERSECUTIONS.  Book  III. 

Actual  perseQutions,  though  unauthorized  by  the 
Persecutions  ii^aperial  edicts,  would  take  place  in  some 
parts  from  the  collision  of  the  two  parties. 
The  Pagans,  now  invested  in  authority,  would  not 
always  be  disposed  to  use  that  authority  with  dis- 
cretion ;  and  the  Pagan  populace  would  seize  the 
opportunity  of  revenging  the  violation  of  their  tem- 
ples, or  the  interruption  of  their  rites,  by  the  more 
zealous  Christians.  No  doubt  the  language  of  an 
address  delivered  to  Constantius  and  Constans  had 
expressed  the  sentiments  of  a  large  party  among  the 
Christians.  "  Destroy  without  fear,  destroy  ye,  most 
religious  emperors,  the  ornaments  of  the  temples. 
Coin  the  idols  into  money,  or  melt  them  into  useful 
metal.  Confiscate  all  their  endowments  for  the  ad- 
vantage of  the  emperor  and  of  the  government.  God 
has  sanctioned,  by  your  recent  victories,  your  hostility 
to  the  temples."  The  writer  proceeds  to  thunder  out 
the  passages  of  the  Mosaic  law,  which  enforce  the 
duty  of  the  extirpation  of  idolaters.^  No  doubt,  in 
many  places,  the  eager  fanaticism  of  the  Christians 
had  outstripped  the  tardy  movements  of  imperial  zeal. 
In  many  cases,  it  would  now  be  thought  an  act  of 
religion  to  reject  —  in  others,  it  would  be  impossible 
to  satisfy  —  the  demands  for  restitution.  The  best- 
authenticated  acts  of  direct  persecution  relate  to  these 
disputes.  Nor  can  Julian  himself  be  exculpated  from 
the  guilt,  if  not  of  conniving  at,  of  faintly  rebuking, 
these  tumultuous  acts  of  revenge  or  of  wanton  out- 
rage. In  some  of  the  Syrian  towns,  —  Gaza,  Hie- 
rapolis,  and  Csesarea,  —  the  Pagans  had  perpetrated 
cruelties  too  horrible  to  detail.  Not  content  with 
massacring  the  Christians  with  every  kind  of  indignity, 

1  Julius  Firmicus  Maternus,  De  Errore  Profanorum  Keligionum,  o.  29. 


Chap.  VI.  RESTORATION  OF   TEMPLES.  15 

they  had  treated  their  lifeless  remains  with  unprece- 
dented outrage.  They  sprinkled  the  entrails  of  their 
victims  with  barley,  that  the  fowls  might  be  tempted 
to  devour  them.  At  Heliopolis,  their  cannibal  fury 
did  not  shrink  from  tasting  the  blood  and  the  inward 
parts  of  murdered  priests  and  virgins.  Julian  calmly 
expresses  his  regret  that  the  restorers  of  the  Restoration 
temples  of  the  gods  have  in  some  instances  °^  temples, 
exceeded  his  expressed  intentions ;  which,  however, 
seem  to  have  authorized  the  destruction  of  the  Chris- 
tian churches,  or  at  least  some  of  their  sacred  places.^ 
Julian  made  an  inauspicious  choice  in  the  battle- 
field on  which  he  attempted  to  decide  his  juiian  con- 
conflict  with  Christianity.  Christianity  pre-  ffuhosm 
dominated  to  a  greater  extent  in  Constant!-  ground, 
nople  and  in  Antioch  than  in  any  other  cities  of  the 
empire.  In  Rome,  he  might  have  appealed  to  the 
antiquity  of  Heathenism,  and  its  eternal  association 
with  the  glories  of  the  republic.  In  Athens,  he 
would  have  combined  in  more  amicable  confederacy 
the  philosophy  and  the  religion.  In  Athens,  his 
accession  had  given  a  considerable  impulse  to  Pagan- 
ism ;  the  temples,  with  the  rest  of  the  public  build- 
ings, had  renewed  their  youth.^  Eleusis,  which  had 
fallen  into   ruin,  now  re-assumed   its   splendor,  and 

1  Greg.  Nazianz.  Socrates,  iii.  14.  Sozomen,  v.  9.  Compare  Gibbon, 
vol.  iv.  p.  116,  who  has  referred  the  following  passage  in  the  Misopogon  to 
these  scenes. 

01  ra  fj£v  To)V  ■&eti)V  avEOTTjaav  avriKa  Tefdvrj-  rovg  ra^ovg  6i  ruv 
adecjv  averpefav  rcavrag  vrrd  tov  avvdrffxaTog,  b  dij  didorai.  nap^  kfiov 
Kpcjijv,  ovTuQ  eTtapdevrec  rdv  vovv,  Koi  /xeriupoi  yevofzevot  t^v  Siavotav, 
d)g  Kal  ttMov  kTze^eldelv  roig  eig  rovg  ■&eovg  nXr/fifteXovaiv  ^  (SovTiu/^tvo) 
uoL  })V.  —  Misopogon,  p.  361. 

Did  he  mean  by  the  ra^ot  chapels,  like  those  built  over  the  remains  of 
St.  Babylas,  in  the  Daphne,  at  Antioch,  or  the  churches  in  general  ? 

2  Mamertinus,  probably,  highly  paints  the  ruin,  that  he  may  exalt  the  re- 


16  CONSTANTINOPLE— ANTIOCH.  Book  III. 

might  have  been  wisely  made  the  centre  of  his  new 
system.  But  in  Constantinople  all  was  modern  and 
Christian.  Piety  to  the  imperial  founder  was  closely 
connected  with  devotion  to  his  religion.  Julian 
could  only  restore  the  fanes  of  the  tutelary  gods 
of  old  Byzantium ;  he  could  strip  the  Fortune  of  the 
city  of  her  Christian  attributes ;  but  he  could  not 
give  a  Pagan  character  to  a  city  which  had  grown 
constan-  ^^P  ^i^^cr  Christian  auspices.  Constantino- 
tinopie.  pig  remained  contumaciously  and  uniformly 
Christian.  Antioch  had  been  a  chief  seat 
of  that  mingled  Oriental  and  Grecian  worship  of  the 
Sun  which  had  grown  up  in  all  the  Hellenized  parts 
of  Asia;  the  name  of  Daphne  given  to  the  sacred 
grove,  implied  that  the  fictions  of  Greece  had  been 
domiciliated  in  Syria. 

Antioch  was  now  divided  by  two  incongruous  but 
equally  dominant  passions,  —  devotion  to  Christianity, 
and  attachment  to  the  games,  the  theatre,  and  every 
kind  of  public  amusement.  The  bitter  sarcasms  of 
Julian  on  the  latter  subject  are  justified  and  confirmed 
by  the  grave  and  serious  admonitions  of  Chrysostom. 
By  a  singular  coincidence,  Antioch  came  into  collision 
with  the  strongest  prejudices  of  Julian.  His  very 
virtues  were  fatal  to  his  success  in  the  re-establishment 
of  Paganism  ;  its  connection  with  the  amusements  of 
the  people  Julian  repudiated  with  philosophic  disdain. 
Instead  of  attempting  to  purify  the  degenerate  taste, 
he  had  all  the  austerity  of  a  Pagan  monk.  Public 
exhibitions  were  interdicted  to  his  reformed  priest 
hood ;  once,  at  the  beginning  of  the  year,  the  emperor 
entered  the  theatre,  remained  in  undisguised  weari- 

storer.  "  Ipsse  illte  bouarum  artium  magistrae  et  inventrices  Atliense  omnem 
cultum  publice  privatimque  perdiderant.  In  miserandam  ruinam  conciderat 
Eleusinia."  —  Mamert.  Grat.  Actio.  Lx.  p.  147. 


Chap.  VI.  JULIAN  AT  ANTIOCH.  IT 

uess,  and  withdrew  in  disgust.  He  was  equally  im- 
patient of  wasting  his  time  as  a  spectator  of  the 
chariot  race ;  he  attended  occasionally,  out  of  respect 
to  the  presiding  deity  of  the  games ;  saw  five  or  six 
courses,  and  retired.^  Yet  Paganism  might  juHan  at 
appear  to  welcome  Julian  to  Antioch.  It  ^""^'"^^ 
had  still  many  followers,  who  clung  with  fond  attach- 
ment to  its  pomps  and  gay  processions.  The  wholr 
city  poured  forth  to  receive  him ;  by  some  he  wa-s 
hailed  as  a  deity.  It  happened  to  be  the  Festival  of 
Adonis ;  and  the  loud  shouts  of  welcome  to  the  empe- 
ror were  mingled  with  the  wild  and  shrill  cries  of  the 
women,  wailing  that  Syrian  symbol  of  the  universal 
deity,  the  Sun.  It  might  seem  an  awful  omen  that 
the  rites  which  mourned  the  departure  of  the  genial 
deity  should  welcome  his  ardent  worshipper.^  The 
outward  appearance  of  religion  must  have  affected 
Julian  with  alternate  hope  and  disappointment.  From 
all  quarters,  diviners,  augurs,  magicians,  enchanters, 
the  priests  of  Cybele  and  of  the  other  Eastern  religions, 
flocked  to  Antioch.  His  palace  was  crowded  with 
men  whom  Chrysostom  describes  as  branded  with 
every  crime,  as  infamous  for  poisonings  and  witch- 
crafts. "  Men  who  had  grown  old  in  prisons  and  in 
the  mines,  and  who  maintained  their  wretched  exist- 
ence by  the  most  disgraceful  trades,  were  suddenly 
advanced  to  places  of  dignity,  and  invested  with  the 
priesthood  and  sacrificial  functions."^  The  severe 
Julian,  as  he  passed  through  the  city,  "  was  encircled 
by  the  profligate  of  every  age,  and  by  prostitutes 
with  their  wanton  laughter  and  shameless  language." 

i  Misopogon,  p.  339,  340.     Amm.  xxii.  9. 

2  "  Evenerat  iisdem  diebus  annuo  cursu  complete  Adonica  ritu  veteri  celp- 
brari."  —  Amm.  Marc  xxii.  9. 

3  Chrysostom  contra  Gent. 

VOL.  III.  2 


18  THE  DAPHNE.  Book  IH. 

Among  the  former,  the  ardent,  youthful,  and  ascetic 
preacher  probably  included  all  the  Theurgists  of  the 
philosophic  school ;  the  latter  sentence  describes  the  fes- 
tal processions,  which  no  doubt  retained  much  of  their 
old  voluptuous  character.  Julian  ascended  the  lofty 
Temple  on   toD  of  Mouut  Casius,  to  solcmuize,  under  the 

Mount  ^  '  ' 

Casius.       broad  and  all-embracing  cope  of  heaven,  the 

rites  of  Jupiter  Philius.^     But  in  the  luxurious  groves 

of  Daphne,  he  was  doomed  to  a  melancholy 

The  Daphne.  .  ^,  .         n         •  i 

disappomtment.  The  grove  remamed  with 
all  its  beautiful  scenery,  its  shady  recesses,  its  cool 
and  transparent  streams,  in  which  the  Heathen  in- 
habitants of  Antioch  had  mingled  their  religious  rites 
with  their  private  enjoyments.  But  a  serious  gloom, 
a  solemn  quiet,  pervaded  the  whole  place.  The  tem- 
ple of  Apollo,  the  magnificent  edifice  in  which  the 
devotion  of  former  ages  had  sacrificed  hecatombs, 
where  the  clouds  of  incense  had  soared  above  the 
grove,  and  in  which  the  pomp  of  Oriental  worship 
had  assembled  half  Syria,  was  silent  and  deserted. 
He  expected  (in  his  own  words  2)  a  magnificent  pro- 
cession, victims,  libations,  dances,  incense,  boys  with 
white  and  graceful  vests  and  with  minds  as  pure  and 
unspotted,  dedicated  to  the  service  of  the  god.  He 
entered  the  temple  ;  he  found  a  solitary  priest,  with  a 
single  goose  for  sacrifice.  The  indignant  emperor 
poured  out  his  resentment  in  the  bitterest  language ; 
he  reproached  the  impiety,  the  shameful  parsimony, 
of  the  inhabitants,  who  enjoyed  the  large  estates 
attached  to  the  temple,  and  thus  neglected  its  ser- 
vices ;  who  at  the  same  time  permitted  their  wives  to 

1  The  Jupiter  Philius,  or  Casius.  This  god  was  the  tutelary  deity  of  An- 
tioch, and  appears  on  the  medals  of  the  city.  —  St.  Martin,  note  to  Le  Beau, 
iii.  6. 

2  Misopogon,  362. 


Chap.yi.  remains  of  babylas.  19 

lavish  their  treasures  on  the  infamous  Gralileans,  and 
on  their  scandalous  banquets,  called  the  Maiuma. 

Julian  determined  to  restore  the  majesty  of  the 
temple  and  worship  of  Apollo.  But  it  was  first 
necessary  to  dispossess  the  Christian  usurper  of  the 
sacred  place.  The  remains  of  Babylas,  the  Remains 
martyred  Bishop  of  Antioch,  who  had  suf-  ^^^^^y^^- 
fered,  probably  in  the  Decian  persecution,  had  been 
removed  eleven  years  before  to  Daphne ;  and  the 
Christians  crowded  to  pay  their  devotions  near  his 
tomb.  The  Christians  assert,  that  the  baffled  Apollo 
confessed  himself  abashed  in  the  presence  of  the 
saint ;  his  oracle  dared,  not  break  silence. ^  At  all 
events,  Julian  determined  to  purify  the  grove  from 
the  contamination  of  this  worship.  The  remains  of 
Babylas  were  ordered  to  be  transported  back  to 
Antioch.  They  were  met  by  a  solemn  procession  of 
a  great  part  of  the  inhabitants.  The  relics  were 
raised  on  a  chariot,  and  conducted  in  triumph,  with 
the  excited  multitude  dancing  before  it,  and  thunder- 
ing out  the  maledictory  psalm :  "  Confounded  be  all 
they  that  worship  carved  images,  and  delight  in  vain 
idols."  Julian  attempted  to  punish  this  outburst  of 
popular  feeling.  But  the  firmness  of  the  first  victim 
who  endured  the  torture,  and  the  remonstrances  of  the 
prefect  Sallust,  brought  him  back  to  his  better  temper 
of  mind.  The  restoration  of  the  temple  was  urged  on 
with  zealous  haste.  A  splendid  peristyle  arose  around 
it ;  when,  at  midnight,  Julian  received  the  j-j^.^  ^  ^^^ 
intelligence  that  the  temple  was  on  fire.  *^™p^®- 
The  roof  and  all  the  ornaments  were  entirely  con- 
sumed, and  the  statue  of  the  god  himself,  of  gilded 
wood,  yet  of  such  astonishing  workmanship  that  it  is 

1  Chiysostom,  Orat.  in  S.  Babylam 


20  GEORGE,  ARIAN  BISHOP  Book  UI. 

said  to  have  enforced  the  homage  of  the  conquering 
Sapor,  was  burned  to  ashes.  The  Christians  beheld 
the  manifest  wrath  of  Heaven,  and  asserted  that  the 
lightning  had  come  down  and  smitten  the  idolatrous 
edifice.  Julian  ascribed  the  conflagration  to  the 
malice  of  the  Christians.  The  most  probable  account 
is,  that  a  devout  worshipper  had  lighted  a  number  of 
torches  before  an  image  of  the  Queen  of  Heaven, 
which  had  set  fire  to  some  part  of  the  building. 
Julian  exacted,  as  it  were,  reprisals  on  Christianity ; 
he  ordered  the  cathedral  of  Antioch  to  be  closed. 
His  orders  were  executed  with  insult  to  the  sacred 
place,  and  the  spoliation  of  the  sacred  vessels.^ 

Julian,  in  the  mean  time,  was  not  regardless  of  the 
advancement  of  the  Pagan  interest  in  other  parts  of 
the  empire.  Alexandria  could  not  be  at 
peace  while  any  kind  of  religious  excitement 
inflamed  the  minds  of  men.  The  character  of  George, 
George,  ^hc  Arlau  Blshop  of  Alexandria,  is  loaded  by 
of^Sex-^^''^  Heathen  as  well  as  by  Christian  writers  with 
andria.         ^^^^^^  j^-^^^  ^£  obloquy.     His  low  birth,  the 

base  and  sordid  occupations  of  his  youth,  his  servile 
and  intriguing  meanness  in  manhood,  his  tyranny  in 
power,  trace,  as  it  were,  his  whole  life  with  increasing 
odiousness.  Yet,  extraordinary  as  it  may  seem,  the 
Arian  party  could  find  no  man  of  better  reputation  to 
fill  this  important  post;  and  George,  the  impartial 
tyrant  of  all  parties,  perished  at  last,  the  victim  of 
his  zealous  hostility  to  Paganism.  A  chief  cause  of 
the  unpopularity  of  George  was  the  assertion  of  the 
imperial  right  over  the  fee-simple  of  the  land  on  which 
Alexandria  was  built.  This  right  was  gravely  deduced 
from  Alexander  the  Great.     During  the  reign  of  Con- 

1  Amm.  Marc.  xxii.  13.    Theodor.  iii.  11.    Sozomen,  v.  20. 


Chap.VI.  of  ALEXANDRIA.  'Zl 

stantius,  George  had  seized  eveiy  opportunity  of 
depressing  and  insulting  Paganism:  he  had  inter- 
dicted the  festivals  and  the  sacrifices  of  the  Heathen ; 
he  had  pillaged  the  gifts,  the  statues,  and  ornaments 
of  their  temple ;  he  had  been  heard,  as  he  passed  the 
temple  either  of  Serapis  himself,  or  of  the  Fortune 
of  the  city,  to  utter  the  contemptuous  expression, 
"  How  long  will  this  sepulchre  be  permitted  to 
stand  ?  "  1  He  had  discovered  a  cave  where  the  Mith- 
riac  mysteries  were  said  to  have  been  carried  on  with 
a  horrible  sacrifice  of  human  life.  The  heads  of  a 
number  of  youths  were  exposed  (probably  disinterred 
from  some  old  cemetery  near  which  these  rites  had 
been  established),  as  of  the  victims  of  this  sanguinary 
idolatry.  The  insults  and  outrages  rankled  in  the 
hearts  of  the  Pagans.  The  fate  of  Artemius,  the 
Duke  of  Egypt,  the  friend  and  abettor  of  George  in 
all  his  tyrannical  proceedings,  prepared  the  way  for 
that  of  George.  Artemius  was  suspected  of  being 
concerned  in  the  death  of  Gallus.  He  was  charged 
with  enormous  delinquencies  by  the  people  of  Alexan- 
dria. Whether  as  a  retribution  for  the  former  offence 
against  the  brother  of  Julian,  or  as  the  penalty  for 
his  abuse  of  his  authority  in  his  government,  Artemius 
was  condemned  to  death.  Tli«  intelligence  of  his 
execiition  was  the  signal  for  a  general  insurrection  of 
the  Pagans  in  Alexandria.  The  palace  of  George  was 
invested  by  a  frantic  mob.  In  an  instant  he  was 
draffffed   forth,   murdered,    trampled   under 

n  -,  -,     \  1  -.11       His  death. 

loot,  dragged  along  the  streets,  and  at  length 
torn  limb  from  limb.     With  him  perished  two  officers 
of  the  empire,  Dracontius,  master  of  the  mint,  and 
the    count   Diodorus ;    the    one    accused    of    having 

1  Amm.  Marcell.  xxii.  11.     Socrates,  iii.  2. 


22  DEATH  OF  GEORGE.  Book  ILL, 

destroyed  an  altar  of  Serapis,  the  other  of  having  built 
a  church.  The  mangled  remains  of  these  miserable 
men  were  paraded  through  the  streets  on  the  back  of 
a  camel,  and  at  length,  lest  they  should  be  enshrined 
and  worshipped  as  the  relics  of  martyrs,  cast  into  the 
sea.  The  Christians,  however,  of  all  parties,  appear 
to  have  looked  with  unconcern  on  the  fate  of  this 
episcopal  tyrant,^  whom  the  general  hatred,  if  it  did 
not  excite  them  to  assist  in  his  massacre,  prevented 
them  from  attempting  to  defend.  Julian  addressed  a 
letter  to  the  people  of  Alexandria.  While  he  ad- 
mitted, in  the  strongest  terms,  the  guilt  of  George, 
he  severely  rebuked  their  violence  and  presumption 
in  thus  taking  the  law  into  their  own  hands,  and  the 
horrible  inhumanity  of  tearing  like  dogs  the  bodies 
of  men  in  pieces,  and  then  pa-esuming  to  lift  up  their 
blood-stained  hands  to  the  gods.  He  admitted  that 
their  indignation  for  their  outraged  temples  and 
insulted  gods  might  naturally  madden  them  to  just 
resentment ;  but  they  should  have  awaited  the  calm 
and  deliberate  course  of  justice,  which  would  have 
exacted  due  punishment  from  the  offender.  Julian 
secured  to  himself  part  of  the  spoils  of  the  murdered 
prelate.  George  had  a  splendid  library,  rich  not 
merely  in  the  writings  of  the  Galileans,  but,  what 
Julian  esteemed  as  infinitely  more  precious,  the  works 
of  the  Greek  orators  and  philosophers.  The  first  he 
would  willingly  have  destroyed:  the  latter  he  com- 
manded to  be  carefully  reserved  for  his  own  use.^ 

In  the  place  of  George  arose  a  more  powerful  ad- 
versary.    Julian  knew  and  dreaded  the  character  of 

1  "  Poterantque  miserandi  homines  ad  crudele  supplicium  devoti,  Christia- 
norum  adjumento  defendi,  ni  Georgii  odio  omnes  indiscrete  flagrabant."  — > 
Amm.  Marcell.  xxii.  11. 

2  Julian.  Epist.  ix.  &  x 


Chap.  VI.  ATHANASIUS.  23 

Atlianasius,  who,  during  these  tumults,  had  quietly 
resumed  his  authority  over  the  orthodox 
Christians  of  Alexandria.  The  general  edict 
of  Julian  for  the  recall  of  all  exiles  contained  no  excep- 
tion ;  and  Atlianasius  availed  himself  of  its  protecting 
authority.^  Under  his  auspices,  tlie  Church,  even  in 
these  disastrous  times,  resumed  its  vigor.  The  Arians, 
terrified  perhaps  by  the  hostility  of  the  Pagans,  has- 
tened to  re-unite  themselves  to  the  Church ;  and 
Julian  heard  with  bitter  indignation,  that  some  Pagan 
females  had  received  baptism  from  Athanasius.  Julian 
expressed  his  astonishment,  not  that  Athanasius  had 
returned  from  exile,  but  that  he  had  dared  to  resume 
his  see.  He  ordered  him  into  instant  banishment. 
He  appealed,  in  a  letter  to  the  prefect,  to  the  mighty 
Serapis,  that  if  Athanasius,  the  enemy  of  the  gods, 
was  not  expelled  from  the  city  before  the  calends  of 
December,  he  should  impose  a  heavy  fine.  "  By  his 
influence  the  gods  were  brought  into  contempt ;  it 
would  be  better,  therefore,  that  '  this  most  wicked 
Athanasius '  were  altogether  banished  from  Egypt." 
To  a  supplication  from  the  Christian  inhabitants  of 
the  city  in  favor  of  Athanasius,  he  returned  a  sarcastic 
and  contemptuous  reply,  reminding  the  people  of 
Alexandria  of  their  descent  from  Pagan  ancestors, 
and  of  the  greatness  of  the  gods  they  worshipped,  and 
expressing  his  astonishment  that  they  should  prefer 
the  worship  of  Jesus,  the  Word  of  God,  to  that  of  the 
Sun,  the  glorious  and  visible  and  eternal  emblem  of 
the  Deity .2 

In  other  parts,  justified  perhaps  in  their  former  ex- 
cesses, or  encouraged  to  future  acts  of  violence,  by  the 
impunity  of  the  Alexandrians,  Paganism  awoke,  if  not 

1  Julian.  Epist.  xxvi.  p.  398.  2  Julian.  Epist.  xi.  p.  378. 


24  JULIAN  COURTS   THE  JEWS.  Book  III. 

to  make  reprisals  by  conversion,  at  least  to  take  a 
bloody  revenge  on  its  Christian  adversaries.^  Tlie 
atrocious  persecutions  of  the  fanatic  populace,  in  some 
of  the  cities  of  Syria,  have  already  been  noticed.  The 
aged  Mark  of  Arethusa  was,  if  not  the  most  blameless, 
at  least  the  victim  of  these  cruelties,  whose  life  ought 
to  have  been  sanctified  even  by  the  rumor  which  as- 
cribed the  preservation  of  Julian,  when  an  infant,  to 
Death  of  the  pious  bishop.  Mark  was  accused  of  hav- 
Arethusa.  iug  dcstroycd  a  temple ;  he  was  summoned 
to  rebuild  it  at  his  own  expense.  But  Mark,  with  the 
virtues,  inherited  the  primitive  poverty  of  the  apostles ; 
and,  even  if  he  had  had  the  power,  no  doubt,  would 
have  resisted  this  demand .^  But  the  furious  populace 
(according  to  Sozomen,  men,  women,  and  schoolboys) 
seized  on  the  old  man,  and  inflicted  every  torment 
which  their  inventive  barbarity  could  suggest.  The 
patience  and  calm  temperament  of  the  old  man  resisted 
and  survived  the  cruelties. ^  Julian  is  said  to  have 
expressed  no  indignation,  and  ordered  no  punishment. 
The  prefect  Sallust  reminded  him  of  the  disgrace  to 
which  Paganism  was  exposed,  by  being  tlms  put  to 
shame  by  a  feeble  old  man. 

The  policy  of  Julian  induced  him  to  seek  out  every 
alliance  which  could  strengthen  the  cause  of  Paganism 
against  Christianity.  Polytheism  courted  an  unnatu- 
ral union  with  Judaism  ;  their  bond  of  connection  was 
Julian  courts  their  commou  hatred  to  Christianity.  It  is 
thjjews.       ^^^  ^Yqsly  whether  Julian  was  sufficiently  ac- 

1  Julian,  Epist.  x.  p.  377. 

2  According  to  Theodoret,  'O  6e,  laov  elg  aasfSetav  ^fr],  to  6f3oXbv  yovv 
eva  dovvai,  Tib  ttuvtu  dovvat,  —  E.  H.  iii.  7. 

8  Sozomen  gives  the  most  detailed  account  of  this  cruel  scene,  clearly  a 
popular  tumult,  which  the  authorities  in  no  way  interfered  to  repress.  —  E.  H, 
T.  10. 


Chap.  VI.  THE   TEMPLE  AT   JEliUSALEM.  25 

quainted  with  the  writings  of  the  Christians,  distinctly 
to  apprehend  that  they  considered  the  final  'destruction 
of  the  Jewish  temple  to  be  one  of  the  great  prophecies 
on  which  their  religion  rested.  The  rebuilding  of  that 
temple  was  bringing,  as  it  were,  this  question  to  direct 
issue  ;  it  was  an  appeal  to  God,  whether  he  had  or  had 
not  finally  rejected  the  people  of  Israel,  and  admitted 
the  Christians  to  all  their  great  and  exclusive  privi- 
leges. At  all  events,  the  elevation  of  Judaism  was  the 
depression  of  Christianity.  It  set  the  Old  Testament, 
to  which  the  Christians  appealed,  in  direct  and  hostile 
opposition  to  the  New. 

The  profound  interest  awakened  in  the  Jewish  mind 
showed  that  the  race  of  Israel  embraced,  with  eager 
fervor,  this  solemn  appeal  to  Heaven.  With  tlfe  joy 
which  animated  the  Jew,  at  this  unexpected  summons 
to  return  to  his  native  land  and  to  rebuild  his  fallen 
temple,  mingled,  no  doubt,  some  natural  feeling  of 
triumph  and  of  gratified  animosity  over  the  Christian. 
In  every  part  of  the  empire  the  Jews  awoke  from  their 
slumber  of  abasement  and  of  despondency.  It  was  not 
for  them  to  repudiate  the  overtures  of  Paganism.  The 
emperor  acknowledged  their  God  by  the  per-  Determines 
mission  to  build  again  the  temple  to  his  the^lempte 
glory;  and,  if  not  as  the  sole  and  supreme  **^*'*''""^^^*''"- 
God,  yet  Julian's  language  affected  a  monotheistic 
tone :  and  they  might  indulge  the  fond  hope  that  the 
re-establishment  of  the  temple  upon  Mount  Moriah 
might  be  preparatory  to  the  final  triumph  of  their 
faith,  in  the  awe-struck  veneration  of  the  whole  world ; 
the  commencement  of  the  Messiah's  kingdom ;  the 
dawn  of  their  long-delayed,  but  at  length  approaching 
millennium  of  empire  and  of  religious  supremacy. 
Those  who  could  not  contribute  their  personal  labor 


26  INTERRUPTION  TO   THE  REBUILDING        Book  III. 

devoted  their  wealth  to  the  national  work.  The  extent 
of  their  sacrifices,  the  eagerness  of  their  hopes,  rather 
belong  to  the  province  of  Jewish  history.  But  every 
precaution  was  taken  to  secure  the  uninterrupted  prog- 
ress of  the  work.  It  was  not  an  affair  of  the  Jewish 
nation,  but  of  the  imperial  government.  It  was  in- 
trusted to  the  ruler  of  the  province,  as  the  delegate  of 
the  emperor.  Funds  were  advanced  from  the  public 
treasury :  and  if  the  Jews  themselves,  of  each  sex  and 
of  every  age,  took  pride  in  hallowing  their  own  hands 
by  assisting  in  heaping  up  the  holy  earth,  or  hewing 
the  stone  to  be  employed  in  this  sacred  design  ;  if  they 
wrought  their  wealth  into  tools  of  the  precious  metals, 
shovels  and  spades  of  silver,  which  were  to  become 
valued  heirlooms  as  consecrated  by  this  pious  ser- 
vice,—  the  emperor  seemed  to  take  a  deep  personal 
interest  in  the  design,  which  was  at  once  to  immortal- 
ize his  magnificence,  and  to  assist  his  other  glorious 
undertakings.  The  Jews,  who  acknowledged  that  it 
was  not  lawful  to  offer  sacrifice  except  on  that  holy 
place,  were  to  propitiate  their  God,  during  his  expedi- 
tion into  Persia ;  and,  on  his  triumphant  return  from 
that  region,  he  promised  to  unite  with  them  in  adora- 
tion in  the  restored  city  and  in  the  reconstructed  fane 
of  the  great  God  of  the  Jews.^ 

Judaism  and  Paganism  had  joined  in  this  solemn 
adjuration,  as  it  were,  of  the  Deity.  Their 
vows  were  met  with  discomfiture  and  disap- 
pointment. The  simple  fact  of  the  interruption  of 
their  labors,  by  an  event  which  the  mass  of  mankind 
could  not  but  consider  preternatural,  even  as  recorded 
by  the  Pagan  historians,  appeared,  in  the  more  excited 

1  In  his  letter  to  the  Jews,  he  calls  the  God  of  the  Jews,  KpecTTuv  ;  in  his 
Theologic  Fragment  (p.  295),  (leyag  Geof. 


CnAi'.  YI.     OF  THE  TEMPLE  AT  JERUSALEM.         27 

and  imaginative  minds  of  the  Christians,  a  miracle  of 
the  most  terrific  and  appalhng  nature.  Few,  if  any, 
of  the  Christians  could  have  been  eye-witnesses  of  the 
scene.  The  Christian  world  would  have  averted  its 
face  in  horror  from  the  impious  design.  The  relation 
must,  in  the  first  instance,  have  come  from  the  fears 
of  the  discomfited  and  affrighted  workmen.  The 
main  fact  is  indisputable,  that,  as  they  dug  down  to 
the  foundations,  terrific  explosions  took  place ;  what 
seemed  balls  of  fire  burst  forth  ;  the  works  were  shat- 
tered to  pieces ;  clouds  of  smoke  and  dust  enveloped 
the  whole  in  darkness,  broke  only  by  the  wild  and  fit- 
ful glare  of  the  flames.  Again  the  work  was  renewed 
by  the  obstinate  zeal  of  the  Jews ;  again  they  were  re- 
pelled by  this  unseen  and  irresistible  power,  till  they 
cast  away  their  implements,  and  abandoned  the  work 
in  humiliation  and  despair.  How  far  natural  causes  — 
the  ignition  of  the  foul  vapors,  confined  in  the  deeply 
excavated  recesses  of  the  hill  of  the  temple,  according 
to  the  recent  theory  —  will  account  for  the  facts,  as 
they  are  related  in  the  simpler  narrative  of  Marcellinus, 
may  admit  of  some  question  ;  but  the  philosophy  of  the 
age,  whether  Heathen  or  Christian,  was  as  unable 
as  it  was  unwilling  to  trace  such  appalling  events  to 
the  unvarying  operations  of  nature.^ 

1  See  M.  Guizot's  note  on  Gibbon,  with  my  additional  observations. 
There  seems  a  strong  distinction  in  point  of  credibility  between  miracles  ad- 
dressed to  the  terror  and  those  which  appeal  to  the  calmer  emotions  of  the 
mind,  such  as  most  of  those  recorded  in  the  Gospel.  The  former,  in  the  first 
place,  are  usually  momentary,  or,  if  prolonged,  endure  but  a  short  time.  But 
the  passion  of  fear  so  completely  unhinges  and  disorders  the  mind,  as  to  de- 
prive it  of  all  trustworthy  power  of  observation  or  discrimination.  In  them- 
selves, therefore,  I  should  venture  to  conclude  that  terrific  nuracles,  resting 
on  human  testimony,  are  less  credible  than  those  of  a  less  appalling  nature. 
Though  the  other  class  of  emotions,  those  of  joy  or  gratitude,  or  religious  ven- 
eration, likewise  disturb  the  equable  and  dispassionate  state  of  mind  requisite 
for  cool  reasoning,  yet  such  miracles  are  in  general  both  more  calmly  sur- 
veyed, and  more  permanent  in  their  effects. 


28  WRITINGS  OF  JULIAN.  Book  III 

Christianity  may  have  embellished  this  wonderful 
event,  but  Judaism  and  Paganism  confessed  by  their 
terrors  the  prostration  of  their  hopes.  The  work  was 
abandoned;  and  the  Christians  of  later  ages  could 
appeal  to  the  remains  of  the  shattered  works  and  un- 
finished excavations,  as  the  unanswerable  sign  of  the 
divine  wrath  against  their  adversaries,  as  the  public 
and  miraculous  declaration  of  God  in  favor  of  their 
insulted  religion. 

But  it  was  not  as  emperor  alone  that  the  indefatigable 
Julian  labored  to  overthrow  the  Christian  religion.  It 
was  not  by  the  public  edict,  the  more  partial  favor  shown 
to  the  adherents  of  Paganism,  the  insidious  disparage- 
ment of  Christianity  by  the  depression  of  its  ministers 
and  apostles,  and  the  earnest  elevation  of  Heathenism 
to  a  moral  code  and  an  harmonious  religion,  with 
all  the  pomp  of  a  sumptuous  ritual ;  it  was  not  in  the 
council,  or  the  camp,  or  the  temple  alone,  that  Julian 
stood  fortli  as  the  avowed  antagonist  of  Christianity. 
Writings  of  He  was  ambitious,  as  a  writer,  of  confuting 
Julian.  ^^g  principles  and  disproving  its  veracity  :  he 
passed  in  his  closet  the  long  nights  of  the  winter,  and 
continued,  during  his  Persian  campaign,  his  elaborate 
work  against  the  faith  of  Christ.  He  seemed,  as  it 
were,  possessed  with  an  equal  hatred  of  those  whom 
he  considered  the  two  most  dangerous  enemies  of  the 
Roman  empire,  —  the  Persians  and  the  Christians. 
While  oppressed  by  all  the  serious  cares  of  organizing 
and  moving  such  an  army  as  might  bring  back  the 
glorious  days  of  Germanicus  or  of  Trajan  ;  while  his 
ambition  contemplated  nothing  less  than  the  perma- 
nent humiliation  of  the  great  Eastern  rival  of  the  em- 
pire, —  his  literary  vanity  found  time  for  its  exercise : 
and,  in  all  his  visions  of  military  glory  and  conquest, 


Chap.  VI.  MISOPOGON.  29 

Julian  never  lost  sight  of  liis  fame  as  an  author.^  It 
is  difficult  to  judge  from  the  fragments  of  this  ^^^.j^  ^^^^^ 
work,  selected  for  confutation  after  his  death  Christianity. 
by  Cyril  of  Alexandria,  of  the  power,  or  even  of  the 
candor,  shown  by  the  imperial  controversialist.  But 
it  appears  to  have  been  composed  in  a  purely  polemic 
spirit ;  with  no  lofty  or  comprehensive  views  of  the  real 
nature  of  the  Christian  religion,  no  line  and  philosophic 
perception  of  that  which  in  tlie  new  faith  had  so  power- 
fully and  irresistibly  occupied  the  wliole  soul  of  man ; 
with  no  consciousness  of  the  utter  inefficiency  of  the 
cold  and  incoherent  Paga]i  mysticism,  which  he  endea- 
vored to  substitute  for  the  Gospel. 

But,  at  least,  this  was  a  grave  and  serious  employ- 
ment. Whatever  might  be  thought  of  his  success  as 
a  religious  disputant,  there  was  no  loss  of  dignit}^  in 
the  emperor  condescending  to  enlighten  his  subjects 
on  such  momentous  questions.     But,  when 

Misopogon. 

he  stooped  to  be  the  satirist  of  the  inhabitants 
of  a  city  which  had  ridiculed  his  philosophy  and  re- 
jected his  religion,  the  finest  and  most  elegant  irony, 
the  keenest  and  most  delicate  wit,  would  scarcely  have 
justified  this  compromise  of  the  imperial  majesty.  But 
in  the  Misopogon  —  the  apology  for  his  philosophic 
beard  —  Julian  mingled  the  coarseness  of  the  Cynic 
with  the  bitterness  of  personal  indignity.  The  vulgar 
ostentation  of  his  own  filthiness,  the  description  of 
the  vermin  which  peopled  his  thick  beard,  ill  accord 
with  the  philosophic  superiority  with  which  Julia:i 
rallies  the  love  of  amusement  and  gayety  among  his 
subjects  of  Antioch.  Their  follies  were  at  least  more 
graceful  and  humane  than  this  rude  pedantry.     There 

1  "Julianus  Augustus  septem  libros  in  expeditione  Parthic^  adversus 
Christum  evomuit."  —  Hieronym.  Oper.  Epist.  Ixx. 


30  PERSIAN  EXPEDITION.  Book  III. 

is  certainly  much  felicity  of  sarcasm,  doubtless  much 
justice,  in  his  animadversions  on  the  dissolute  man- 
ners of  the  Antiochenes,  their  ingratitude  for  his 
liberality,  their  dislike  of  his  severe  justice,  the  inso- 
lence of  their  contempt  for  his  ruder  manners,  through- 
out the  Misopogon :  but  it  lowers  Julian  from  a 
follower  of  Plato,  to  a  coarse  imitator  of  Diogenes ;  it 
exhibits  him  as  borrowing  tlie  worst  part  of  the  Chris- 
tian monkish  character,  the  disregard  of  the  decencies 
and  civilities  of  life,  without  the  high  and  visionary 
enthusiasm,  or  the  straining  after  superiority  to  the 
low  cares  and  pursuits  of  the  world.  It  was  singular  to 
hear  a  Grecian  sophist,  for  such  was  undoubtedly  the 
character  of  Julian's  writings,  extolling  the  barbarians, 
the  Celts  and  G-ermans,  above  the  polished  inhabitants 
of  Greece  and  Syria. 

Paganism  followed  with  faithful  steps,  and  with 
Julian  sets  G^gcr  hopcs,  tlic  carccr  of  Julian  on  the 
Per5an°e?  brilliant  outset  of  his  Persian  campaign, 
pedition.  Some  of  the  Syrian  cities  through  which  he 
passed,  Batne  and  Hierapolis  and  Carrhae,  seemed  to 
enter  into  his  views,  and  endeavored,  with  incense  and 
sacrifice,  to  propitiate  the  gods  of  Julian.^  For  the 
last  time  the  Etruscan  haruspices  accompanied  a 
Roman  emperor ;  but,  by  a  singular  fatality,  their 
adverse  interpretation  of  the  signs  of  heaven  was 
disdained,  and  Julian  followed  the  advice  of  the  philos- 
ophers, who  colored  their  predictions  with  the  bright 
hues  of  the  emperor's  ambition.^ 

The  death  of  Julian  did  greater  honor  to  his  philoso- 
Death  of  P^J'  ^^  ^^y  reject  as  in  itself  improbable, 
/uiian.         g^j^(^  g^g  resting  on  insufficient  authority,  the 

1  Julian.  Epist.  xxvii.  p.  399.    Amm.  Marc.  xxii.  2. 

2  Amm.  Marc,  xxiii.  5. 


CuAP.  VI.  DEATH  OF  JULIAN.  31 

bitter  sentence  ascribed  to  him  when  he  received  his 
fatal  wound.  "  Thou  hast  conquered,  0  Galilean  !  "  ^ 
He  comforted  his  weeping  friends ;  he  expressed  his 
readhiess  to  pay  the  debt  of  nature,  and  his  joy  that 
the  purer  and  better  part  of  his  being  was  so  soon  to 
be  released  from  the  gross  and  material  body.  "  The 
gods  of  heaven  sometimes  bestow  an  early  death  as 
the  best  reward  of  the  most  pious."  His  conscience 
uttered  no  reproach :  he  had  administered  the  empire 
with  moderation,  firmness,  and  clemency ;  he  had 
repressed  the  license  of  public  manners ;  he  had  met 
danger  with  firmness.  His  prescient  spirit  had  long 
informed  him  that  he  should  fall  by  the  sword.  And 
he  thanked  tlie  everlasting  deity  that  he  thus  escaped 
the  secret  assassination,  the  slow  and  wasting  disease, 
the  ignominious  death  ;  and  departed  from  the  world 
in  the  midst  of  his  glory  and  prosperity.  "  It  is  equal 
cowardice  to  seek  death  before  our  time,  and  to  attempt 
to  avoid  it  when  our  time  is  come."  His  calmness 
was  only  disturbed  by  the  intelligence  of  the  loss  of  a 
friend.  He  who  despised  his  own  death  lamented 
that  of  another.  He  reproved  the  distress  of  his 
attendants,  declaring  that  it  was  humiliating  to  mourn 
over  a  prince  already  reconciled  to  the  heavens  and 
to  the  stars ;  and  thus,  calmly  discoursing  with  the 
philosophers  Prisons  and  Maximus  on  the  metaphys- 
ics of  the  soul,  expired  Julian,  the  pliilosopher  and 
emperor  .2 

1  NsvtKTjKoc,  VdlilaLE.  —  Theodoret,  Hist.  Eccl.  iii.  25. 

2  Amm.  Marc.  ibid.  Even  the  Christians,  at  a  somewhat  later  period, 
did  justice  to  the  great  qualities  of  Julian.  The  character  drawn  by  the 
Pagan,  Aurelius  Victor,  is  adopted  by  Prudentius,  who  kindles  into  unusual 
vigor.  "Cupido  laudis  immodicse;  cultus  nuniinum  superstitiosus :  audax 
plus,  quam  imperatorem  decet,  cui  salus  propria  cum  semper  ad  securitatem 
omnium,  maxima  in  bello,  conservanda  est."  — Epit.  p.  228. 

Ductor  fortissunus  armis ; 
Conditor  et  legom  celeberrimus ;  oie  manuqua 


32  JULIAN'S   COISTLICT  Book  III. 

Julian  died,  perhaps  happily  for  his  fame.  Perilous 
as  his  situation  was,  he  might  still  have  extricated 
himself  by  his  military  skill  and  courage,  and  event- 
ually succeeded  in  his  conflict  with  the  Persian  empire ; 
he  might  have  dictated  terms  to  Sapor,  far  different 
from  those  which  the  awe  of  his  name  and  the  vigorous 
organization  of  his  army,  even  after  his  death,  extorted 
from  the  prudent  Persian.  But  in  his  other,  his  in- 
ternal conflict,  Julian   could  have  obtained 

Probable  .  ,  .  „       . 

results  of       no  victorv,  cvcu  at  the  price  oi  rivers  of 

Julian's  con-  *'  ^ 

flictwith       blood  shed  in  persecution,  and  perhaps  civil 

Christianity.  ^  7  r  i 

wars  throughout  the  empire.  He  might 
have  arrested  the  fall  of  the  empire ;  but  that  of 
Paganism  was  beyond  the  power  of  man.^  The 
invasion  of  arms  may  be  resisted  or  repelled:  the 
silent  and  profound  encroachments  of  opinion  and 
religious  sentiment  will  not  retrograde.  Already  there 
had  been  ominous  indications  that  the  temper  of 
Julian  would  hardly  maintain  its  more  moderate 
policy ;  nor  would  Christianity  in  that  age  have  been 
content  with  opposing  him  with  passive  courage.  The 
insulting  fanaticism  of  the  ^dolent,  no  less  than  the 
stubborn  contumacy  of  the  disobedient,  would  have 
goaded  him  by  degrees  to  severer  measures.  The 
whole  empire  would  have  beer  rent  by  civil  dissensions. 
The  bold  adventurer  would  scarcely  have  been  wanting, 
who,  either  from  ambition  or  enthusiasm,  would  have 
embraced  the  Christian  cause ;  and  the  pacific  spirit 
of  genuine  Christianity,  its  high  notions  of  submission 
to  civil  authority,  would  scarcely,  generally  or  con- 

Consultor  patriae,  sed  non  consultor  habendae 
Religionis ;  amans  ter  centum  millia  Divi^m  ; 
Perfidus  ille  Deo,  sed  non  et  perfidus  orbi. 

Apoth.  430. 
1  Julian's  attempt  to  restore  Paganism  was  like  that  of  Rienzi  to  restore 
the  liberties  of  Rome. 


Chap.  VI.  WITH  CHRISTIANITY.  33 

stantly,  have  resisted  the  temptation  of  resuming  its 
seat  upon  the  throne.  Julian  could  not  have  subdued 
Christianity,  without  depopulating  the  empire ;  nor 
contested  with  it  the  sovereignty  of  the  world,  with- 
out danger  to  himself  and  to  the  civil  authority ;  nor 
yielded,  without  the  disgrace  and  bitterness  of  failure. 
He  who  stands  across  the  peaceful  stream  of  pro- 
gressive opinion,  by  his  resistance  maddens  it  to  an 
irresistible  torrent,  and  is  either  swept  away  by  it  at 
once,  or  diverts  it  over  the  whole  region  in  one  devas- 
tating deluge.^ 

1  Theodore!  describes  the  rejoicmgs  at  Antioch  on  the  news  of  the  death 
of  Julian.  There  a\  ere  not  only  festal  dancings  in  the  churches  and  ceme- 
teries of  the  mai-tyrs,  but  in  the  theatres  they  celebrated  the  triumph  of  the 
cross,  and  mocked  at  his  vaticinations. 

'H  6e  'Avnoxov  Tzo/iig  ttjv  helvov  fj.e[iad7jKvia  ofayrjv,  6r}no0oLviag  kize- 
T£?iEC  KoX  TravTjyvpELg  Kal  ov"  fiovov  ev  Tolg  £KK?irjccatg  kxopevov  koI  roXg  fiap- 
Tvpuv  cj]Koig,  a?i?M  Kot  kv  Tolg  ■Qearpotg  rov  aravpov  ttjv  vIktjv  kuripvTTov, 
Kol  Tolg  knELVOv  iJLavTev[xaaLV  kneTuda^ov.  —  E.  H.  iii.  27. 


VOL.  III. 


84  LAMENTATIONS  OF  THE  PAGANS.  Book  III. 


CHAPTER    YII. 

Yalentinian  and  Valens. 

It  is  singular  to  hear  the  Pa.^ans  taking  up,  in  their 

altered  position,  the  arguments  of  the  Chris- 

tionsofthe  tians.     The  extinction  of  the  family  of  Con- 

Pagans  at  .  .  f,  .      -,.  . 

the  death     stautiue  was   a   manifest  indication   of  the 

of  Julian. 

divine  displeasure  at  the  abandonment  of 
Paganism.^  But  this  was  the  calmer  conclusion  of  less 
recent  sorrow  and  disappointment.  The  immediate 
expression  of  Pagan  regret  was  a  bitter  and  reproachful 
complaint  against  the  ingratitude  of  the  gods,  who 
made  so  bad  a  return  for  the  zealous  services  of  Julian. 
"  Was  this  the  reward  for  so  many  victims,  so  many 
prayers,  so  much  incense,  so  much  blood,  shed  on  the 
altar  by  night  as  well  as  by  day  ?  Julian,  in  his  pro- 
fuse and  indiscriminate  piety,  had  neglected  no  deity ; 
he  had  worshipped  all  who  lived  in  the  tradition  of 
the  poets,  —  fathers  and  children,  gods  and  goddesses, 
superior  and  subordinate  deities  ;  and  they,  instead  of 
hurling  their  thunderbolts  and  lightnings,  and  all  the 
armory  of  heaven,  against  the  hostile  Persians,  had 
thus  basely  abandoned  their  sacred  charge.  The  new 
Salmoneus,  the  more  impious  Lycurgus,  the  senseless 
image  of  a  man  (such  were  the  appellations  with 
which  the  indignant  rhetorician  alluded  to  Constan- 
tius),  who  had  waged  implacable  warfare   with   the 

1  Liban.  pro  Templis,  ii.  184. 


Chap.  VII.  REIGN  OF  JOVLiN.  35 

gods,  quenched  the  sacred  fires,  trampled  on  the  altars, 
closed  or  demolished  or  profaned  the  temples,  or  alien- 
ated them  to  loose  companions,  —  this  man  had  been 
permitted  to  pollute  the  earth  for  fifty  years,  and  then 
departed  by  the  ordinary  course  of  nature  ;  while  Julian, 
witii  all  his  piety  and  all  his  glory,  had  only  given  to 
the  world  a  hasty  glimpse  of  his  greatness,  and  sud- 
denly departed  from  their  unsatisfied  sight."  ^  On 
the  other  hand,  the  Christians  raised  a  shout  of  un- 
dissembled  triumph :  Antioch  was  in  a  tumult  of  joy.^ 
Gregory  of  Nazianzum  poured  forth  from  the  pulpit 
his  bitter  eloquence  on  the  head  of  the  apostate.^ 
Christian  legend  is  full  of  predictions  of  the  death  of 
Julian.  The  most  striking  is  the  answer  attributed 
to  a  grammarian  of  Antioch,  whom  Libanius  accosted 
with  a  sneer,  "  What  is  the  carpenter's  son  doing 
now  ?  "  ''  He  is  making  a  coffin."  *  But,  without  re- 
garding the  vain  lamentations  of  Paganism,  Chris- 
tianity calmly  resumed  its  ascendency.  The  short 
reign  of  Jovian  sufficed  for  its  re-establish-  Rgj^^of 
ment ;  and,  as  yet,  it  exacted  no  revenge  for  -'^^i'^a- 
its  sufferings  and  degradation  under  Julian.^  There 
may  have  been  policy  as  well  as  moderation  in  the 

1  Libanius  insults,  in  this  passage,  the  worship  of  the  dead  man,  -whosfl 
sarcophagus  (he  seems  to  allude  to  the  pix  or  consecrated  box  in  which  the 
sacramental  symbol  of  our  Saviour's  bod}'  was  enclosed)  is  introduced  into 
the  KTiT'ipoq  of  the  gods.  —  Monod.  in  Julian,  i.  p.  509. 

2  Theodoret,  iii.  38.        3  Greg.  Orat.  iv.  c.  124.        4  Theodoret,  iii.  23. 

6  Themistius  praises  highly  the  toleration  of  Jovian.  "  Thy  law,  and 
that  of  God,  is  eternal  and  unchangeable;  that  which  leaves  the  soul  of 
ever}'  man  free  to  follow  that  form  of  religion  which  seems  best  to  him."  — 
Ad  Jovian,  p.  81,  ed.  Dindorf.  He  proceeds  to  assert,  that  the  general  piety 
will  be  increased  by  the  rivalry  of  ditferent  religions.  "  The  Deity  does  not 
demand  uniformity  of  faith."  He  touches  on  the  evils  which  had  arisen  out 
of  religious  factions,  and  urges  Jovian  to  permit  supplications  to  ascend  to 
heaven  from  all  parts  of  the  empire  for  his  prosperous  reign.  He  praises 
him,  however,  for  suppressing  magic  and  Goetic  sacrifices. 


86  VALENTINIAX  —  YALENS.  Book  III. 

toleration  of  Jovian.  The  empire  had  been  first  of- 
fered to  the  prefect  Sallust,  a  Pagan.  It  was  Pro- 
copius,  probably  another  Pagan,  who  laid  the  diadem 
at  the  feet  of  Jovian.  Sacrifices  to  the  gods  were  still 
performed  at  Constantinople,^  the  entrails  of  victims 
were  consulted  by  the  haruspices  on  the  fate  of  the 
army .2  Yet  during  his  eight  months'  reign  Jovian 
had  time  to  declare  himself  not  only  a  Christian  but 
an  orthodox  emperor.^  He  received  Athanasius,  who 
had  emerged  from  his  concealment,  with  distinguished 
favor,  and  repelled  the  Arian  bishop  with  scorn.*  The 
vaientinian  cliaractcr  of  tlic  two  brothcrs  who  succeeded 
andvaiens.  ^^  ^|-^q  empire,  Vaientinian  and  Valens,  and 
their  religious  policy,  were  widely  at  variance.  Vai- 
entinian ascended  the  throne  with  the  fame  of  having 
rejected  the  favor  of  Julian  and  the  prospects  of  mil- 
itary distinction,  for  the  sake  of  his  religion.  He  had 
withdrawn  from  the  army  rather  than  offer  even  ques- 
tionable adoration  to  standards  decorated  with  the 
symbols  of  idolatry.  But  Vaientinian  was  content 
to  respect  those  rights  of  conscience  which  he  had  so 
courageously  asserted. 

The  emperor  of  the  West  maintained  a  calm  and 
A.D  364.       uninterrupted  toleration,  which  incurred  the 

Toleration  of  ••  /»    .      t  ^r>  r>  i         /^i      •      • 

Vaientinian.  rcproacli  01  indifierence  from  the  Cln^istian 
party,  but  has  received  the  respectful  homage  of  the 
Pagan  historian.^  The  immunities  and  the  privileges 
of  the  Pagan  priesthood  were  confirmed  ;  ^  the  rites  of 

1  La  Bleterie,  Vie  de  Jovien,  p.  118.  2  Amm.  Marcell.  xxv.  6. 

8  Julian  died  June  26,  A.C.  363 ;  Jovian.  Feb.  17,  A.C  364. 

4  Athanasius,  ii.  622. 

5  Ammianus  Marcellinus,  1.  xxx.  c.  9. 

"Testes  sunt  leges  a  me  in  exordio  imperii  mei  datse;  quibus  unicuique 
quod  animo  imbibisset,  colendi  libera  facultas  tributa  est."  —  Cot  Theod. 
1.  ix.  tit.  16,  1.  9. 

6  Cod.  Theod.  aii.  1,  60,  75. 


Chap.  YII.  LAWS   OF  VALENTINIAN.  37 

divination  were  permitted,  if  performed  without  mali- 
cious intent.^  The  prohibition  of  midnight  sacrifices, 
which  seemed  to  be  required  by  the  public  morals, 
threatened  to  deprive  the  Greeks  of  their  cherished 
mysteries.  Praetextatus,  then  Proconsul  of  Acliaia, 
the  head  of  the  Pagan  party,  a  man  of  liigh  and  unblem- 
ished character,  represented  to  the  emperor  that  these 
rites  were  necessary  to  the  existence  of  the  Greeks. 
The  law  was  relaxed  in  their  favor,  od  the  condition 
of  strict  adherence  to  ancient  usage.  In  Rome,  the 
Vestal  virgins  maintained  their  sanctity  ;  the  altar  of 
Victory,  restored  by  Julian,  preserved  its  place ;  a 
military  guard  protected  the  temples  from  insult,  but 
a  tolerant  as  well  as  prudent  provision  forbade  the 
employment  of  Christian  soldiers  on  this  service.^  On 
the  other  hand,  Valentinian  appears  to  have  j^^^^  ^^ 
revoked  some  of  the  lavish  endowments  con-  ^^lentiman. 
ferred  by  Julian  on  the  Heathen  temples.  These 
estates  were  re-incorporated  with  the  private  treasure 
of  the  sovereign.^  At  a  later  period  of  his  reign, 
there  must  have  been  some  general  prohibition  of  ani- 
mal sacrifice  ;  the  Pagan  worship  was  restricted  to  the 
offering  of  incense  to  the  gods.^  But,  according  to 
the  expression  of  Libanius,  they  dared  not  execute 
this  law  in  Rome,  so  fatal  would  it  have  been  consid- 
ered to  the  welfare  of  the  empire.^ 

Valens  in  the  East,  as  Valentinian  in  tlie  West, 
allowed  perfect  freedom  to  the  public  ritual  prosecutions 
of  Paganism.     But  both  in  the  East  and  in  ^''''^^^''^ 

1  Cod  Tbeod.  ix.  16,  9.  2  Cod.  Theod.  xvi.  1.  1. 

3  Cod.  Theod.  x.  1,  8.  The  law  reads  as  if  it  were  a  niore  general  and 
indiscriminate  confiscation. 

4  Lib.  pro  Templis,  vii.  p.  163,  ed.  Reiske.  This  arose  out  of  some  recent 
tnd  peculiar  circumstances. 

5  Liban.  vol.  ii.  p.  180. 


38  PROSECUTIONS  FOR  MAGIC.  Book  III. 

the  West,  the  persecution  against  magic  and  unlawful 
divination  told  with  tremendous  force  against  the 
Pagan  cause.  It  was  the  more  fatal,  because  it  was 
not  openly  directed  against  the  religion,  but  against 
practices  denounced  as  criminal,  and  believed  to  be 
real,  by  the  general  sentiment  of  mankind,  and  prose- 
cuted by  that  fierce  animosity  which  is  engendered  by 
fear.  Some  compassion  might  be  felt  for  innocent 
victims,  supposed  to  be  unjustly  implicated  in  such 
charges ;  the  practice  of  extorting  evidence  or  con- 
fession by  torture  might  be  revolting  to  those  espe- 
cially who  looked  back  with  pride  and  with  envy  to 
the  boasted  immunity  of  all  Roman  citizens  from 
such  cruelties ;  but,  where  strong  suspicion  of  guilt 
prevailed,  the  public  feeling  would  ratify  the  stern 
sentence  of  the  law  against  such  delinquents :  the 
magician  or  the  witch  would  pass  to  execution  amid 
the  universal  abhorrence.  The  notorious  connection 
of  any  particular  religious  party  with  such  dreaded 
and  abominated  proceedings,  especially  if  proved  by 
the  conviction  of  a  considerable  majority  of  the  con 
demned  from  their  ranks,  would  tend  to  depress  the 
religion  itself.  This  sentiment  was  not  altogether 
unjust.  Paganism  had,  as  it  were,  in  its  desperation, 
thrown  itself  upon  the  inextinguishable  superstition 
of  the  human  mind.  The  more  the  Pagans  were  de- 
pressed, the  hope  of  regaining  their  lost  superiority, 
the  desire  of  vengeance,  would  induce  them  to  seize 
on  every  method  of  awing  or  commanding  the  minds 
of  their  wavering  votaries.  Nor  were  those  who  con- 
descended to  these  arts,  or  those  who  in  many  cases 
claimed  the  honors  annexed  to  such  fearful  powers, 
only  the  bigoted  priesthood,  or  mere  itinerant  traders 
in  human  credulity :  the  high  philosophic  party,  which 


Chap.  YIL  CRUELTY  OF  VALENTINIAlf.  39 

had  gained  such  predominant  influence  during  the 
reign  of  Julian,  now  wielded  the  terrors  and  incurred 
the  penalties  of  these  dark  and  forbidden  practices. 
It  is  impossible  to  read  their  writings  without  remark- 
ing a  boastful  display  of  intercourse  with  supernatural 
agents,  which  to  the  Christian  would  appear  an  illicit 
communion  with  malignant  spirits.  This  was  not, 
indeed,  magic,  but  it  was  the  groundwork  of  it.  Tiie 
theurgy,  or  mysterious  dealings  of  the  Platonic  phi- 
losopher with  the  demons  or  still  higher  powers,  was 
separated  by  a  thin  and  imperceptible  distinction  from 
Goetic  or  unlawful  enchantment.  Divination,  indeed, 
or  the  foreknowledge  of  futurity  by  different  arts,  was 
an  essential  part  of  the  Greek  and  Roman  religion. 
But  divination  had,  in  Greece  at  least,  withdrawn 
from  its  public  office.  It  had  retired  from  the  silenced 
oracles  of  Delphi  or  Dodona.  The  gods,  rebuked 
according  to  the  Christian,  offended  according  to  the 
Pagan,  had  withdrawn  their  presence.  In  Rome,  the 
Etruscan  soothsayers,  as  part  of  the  great  national 
ceremonial,  maintained  their  place,  and  to  a  late  period 
preserved  their  influence  over  the  public  mind.  But, 
in  general,  it  was  only  in  secret,  and  to  its  peculiar 
favorites,  that  the  summoned  or  spontaneous  deity 
revealed  the  secrets  of  futurity  ;  it  was  by  the  dream, 
or  the  private  omen,  the  sign  in  the  heavens,  vouch- 
safed only  to  the  initiate ;  or  the  direct  inspiration ; 
or,  if  risked,  it  was  by  the  secret,  mysterious,  usually 
the  nocturnal  rite,  that  the  reluctant  god  was  com- 
pelled to  disclose  the  course  of  fate. 

The    persecutions    of  Yalentinian    in    Rome   were 
directed  against   magical   ceremonies.     The  cmeityof 
Pagans,  who  remembered  the  somewhat  os-  "^^^^^t^"^*"- 
tentatious  lenity  and  patience  of  Julian  on  the  public 


40  TRIALS  IN  ROME  Book  UI. 

tribunal,  might  contrast  the  more  than  inexorable, 
the  inquisitorial  and  sanguinary,  justice  of  the  Chris- 
tian Yalentinian,  even  in  ordinary  cases,  with  the 
benignant  precepts  of  his  religion.  But  justice  with 
Yalentinian,  in  all  cases,  more .  particularly  in  these 
persecutions,  degenerated  into  savage  tyranny.  The 
emperor  kept  two  fierce  bears  by  his  own  chamber,  to 
which  the  miserable  criminals  were  thrown  in  his 
presence,  while  the  unrelenting  Yalentinian  listened 
with  ferocious  delight  to  their  groans.  One  of  these 
animals,  as  a  reward  for  his  faithful  service  to  the 
state,  received  his  freedom,  and  was  let  loose  into  his 
native  forest.^ 

Maximin,  the  representative  of  Yalentinian  at  Rome, 
Trials  in        administered  the  laws  with  all  the  vindictive 

Rome  before  -, .        .  „ 

Maximin.  fcrocity,  but  witliout  tlic  scvcrc  dignity,  oi 
his  imperial  master.  Maximin  was  of  an  obscure 
and  barbarian  family,  settled  in  Pannonia.  He  had 
attained  the  government  of  Corsica  and  Sardinia,  and 
subsequently  of  Tuscany.  He  was  promoted  in  Rome 
to  the  important  office  of  superintendent  of  the  mar- 
kets of  the  city.  During  the  illness  of  Olybius,  the 
Prefect  of  Rome,  the  supreme  judicial  authority  had 
been  delegated  to  Maximin.  Maximin  was  himself 
rumored  to  have  dabbled  in  necromantic  arts ;  and 
lived  in  constant  terror  of  accusation  till  released  by 
the  death  of  his  accomplice.  This  rumor  may  create 
a  suspicion  that  Maximin  was,  at  least  at  the  time  at 
which  the  accusation  pointed,  a  Pagan.     The  Pagan- 

1  The  Christians  did  not  escape  these  legal  murders,  constantly  per- 
petrated by  the  orders  of  Yalentinian.  In  Milan,  the  place  where  three 
obscure  victims  were  buried  was  called  Ad  Innocentes.  When  he  had  con- 
demned the  decurions  of  three  towns  to  be  put  to  death,  in  a  remonstrance 
against  their  execution,  it  was  stated  that  they  would  be  worshipped  as 
martyrs  by  the  Christians.  —  Aram.  Marc,  xxvii.  7. 


Chap.  Vn.  BEFORE  MAXIMIN.  41 

ism  of  a  large  proportion  of  his  victims  is  more  evi- 
dent. Tlie  first  trial  over  which  Maximin  presided 
was  a  charge  made  by  Chilon,  vicar  of  the  prefects, 
and  his  wife,  Maximia,  against  three  obscure  persons 
for  attempting  their  lives  by  magical  arts :  of  these, 
one  was  a  soothsayer.^  Cruel  tortures  extorted  from 
these  miserable  men  a  wild  string  of  charges  at  once 
against  persons  of  the  highest  rank  and  of  the  basest 
degree.  All  had  tampered  with  unlawful  arts,  and 
had  mingled  with  them  the  crimes  of  murder,  poison- 
ing, and  adultery.  A  general  charge  of  magic  hung 
over  the  whole  city.  Maximin  poured  these  dark 
rumors  into  the  greedy  ear  of  Yalentinian,  and  ob- 
tained the  authority  which  he  coveted,  for  making  a 
strict  inquisition  into  these  offences,  for  exacting  evi- 
dence by  torture  from  men  of  every  rank  and  station, 
and  for  condemning  them  to  a  barbarous  and  igno- 
minious death.  The  crime  of  magic  was  declared  of 
equal  enormity  with  treason ;  the  rights  of  Roman 
citizenship,  and  the  special  privileges  granted  by  the 
imperial  edicts,  were  suspended  ;  ^  neither  the  person 
of  senator  or  dignitary  was  sacred  against  the  scourge 
or  the  rack.  The  powers  of  this  extraordinary  com- 
mission were  exercised  with  the  utmost  latitude  and 
most  implacable  severity.  Anonymous  accusations 
were  received ;  Maximin  was  understood  to  have  de- 
clared that  no  one  should  be  esteemed  innocent  whom 
he  chose  to  find  guilty. 

But  the  details  of  this  persecution  belong  to  our 
history  only  as  far  as  they  relate  to  religion.  On  gen- 
eral grounds,  it  may  be  inferred  that  the  chief  brunt  of 
this  sanguinary  persecution  fell  on  the  Pagan  party. 

1  Haruspex. 

2  "Juris  prisci justitia  et  divorum  arbitria."  —  Amm.  Marc. 


42  CONNECTION  OF  THESE  CRIMES  Book  III. 

Magic — although  at  that  time,  perhaps,  the  insatiate 
curiosity  about  tlie  future,  the  indeUble  passion  for 
supernatural  excitement,  and  even  more  criminal  de- 
signs, might  betray  some  few  professed  Christians 
into  this  direct  treason  against  their  religion  —  was 
an  offence  which,  in  general,  would  have  been  held  in 
dread  and  abhorrence  by  the  members  of  the  Church. 
In  the  laws,  it  is  invariably  denounced  as  a  Pagan 
crime.  The  aristocracy  of  Rome  were  the  chief  vic- 
tims of  Maximin's  cruelty ;  and  in  this  class,  till  its 
final  extinction,  was  the  stronghold  of  Paganism.  It 
is  not  assuming  too  much  influence  for  the  Chris- 
connection  tiauity  of  tliat  age,  to  consider  the  immo- 
crimefwith  ralities  and  crimes,  the  adulteries  and  the 
Paganism,  poisouiugs,  wliich  wcrc  miuglcd  up  with 
these  charges  of  magic,  as  the  vestiges  of  the  old 
unpurified  Roman  manners.  The  Christianity  of 
that  period  ran  into  the  excess  of  monastic  asceticism, 
for  which  the  enthusiasm,  to  judge  from  the  works 
of  St.  Jerome,  was  at  its  height;  and  this  violation 
of  nature  had  not  yet  produced  its  remote  but  ap- 
parently inevitable  consequence,  —  dissoluteness  of 
morals.  In  almost  every  case  recorded  by  the  his- 
torian may  be  traced  indications  of  Pagan  religious 
usages.  A  soothsayer,  as  it  has  appeared,  was  in- 
volved in  the  first  criminal  charge.  While  his  meaner 
accomplices  were  beaten  to  death  by  straps  loaded 
with  lead,  the  judge  having  bound  himself  by  an  oath 
that  they  should  neither  die  by  fire  nor  steel,  the 
soothsayer,  to  whom  he  had  made  no  such  pledge, 
was  burned  alive.  The  affair  of  Hymettius  betrays  the 
same  connection  with  the  ancient  religion.  Hymet- 
tius had  been  accused,  seemingly  without  justice,  of 
malversation  in  his  ofiice  of  Proconsul  of  Africa,  in 


Chap.  VII.  WITH  PAGANISM.  43 

the  supplies  of  corn  to  the  metropolis.  A  celebrated 
soothsayer  (haruspex),  named  Amantius,  was  charged 
with  offering  sacrifices,  by  the  command  of  Hymettius, 
with  some  unlawful  or  treasonable  design.  Amantius 
resisted  the  torture  with  unbroken  courage :  but  among 
his  papers  was  found  a  writing  of  Hymettius,  of  which 
one  part  contained  bitter  invectives  against  the  ava- 
ricious and  cruel  Yalentinian ;  the  other  implored 
Amantius,  by  sacrifices,  to  induce  the  gods  to  mitigate 
the  anger  of  both  the  emperors.  Amantius  suffered 
capital  punishment.  A  youth  named  Lollianus,  con- 
victed of  inconsiderately  copying  a  book  of  n^agical 
incantations  and  condemned  to  exile,  had  the  rashness 
to  appeal  to  the  emperor,  and  suffered  death.  Lolli- 
anus was  the  son  of  Lampadius,  formerly  Prefect  of 
Rome,^  and,  for  his  zeal  for  the  restoration  of  the 
ancient  buildings,  and  his  vanity  in  causing  his  own 
name  to  be  inscribed  on  them,  was  called  the  Lichen. 
Lampadius  was  probably  a  Pagan.  The  leader  of  that 
party,  Praetextatus,  whose  unimpeachable  character 
maintained  the  universal  respect  of  all  parties,  was 
the  head  of  a  deputation  to  the  emperor,^  entreating 
him  that  the  punishment  might  be  proportionate  to 
the  offences,  and  claiming  for  the  senatorial  order 
their  immemorial  exemption  from  the  unusual  and 
illegal  application  of  torture.  On  the  whole,  this  re- 
lentless and  sanguinary  inquisition  into  the  crime  of 
magic,  enveloping  in  one  dreadful  proscription  a 
large  proportion  of  the  higher  orders  of  Rome  and 
of  the  West,  even  if  not  directly,  must  incidentally, 
have   weakened    the    cause    of  Paganism,   connected 

1  Tillemont  thinks  Lampadius  to  have  been  a  Christian ;  but  his  reasons 
are  to  me  inconclusive. 

2  Amm.  Marc,  xxvii.  1,  &;c. 


44  THE  CEREMONY  OF  DIVINATION.  Book  m. 

It  in  many  minds  with  dark  and  hateful  practices, 
and  altogether  increased  the  deepening  animosity 
against  it. 

In  the  East,  the  fate  of  Paganism  was  still  more 
In  the  East  ^^dvcrse.  Tlicre  is  strong  ground  for  sup- 
procoiSusf  posing  that  the  rebellion  of  Procopius  was 
A.D.  365.  connected  with  the  revival  of  Julian's  party. 
It  was  assiduously  rumored  abroad  that  Procopius 
had  been  designated  as  his  successor  by  the  expiring 
Julian.  Procopius,  before  the  soldiery,  proclaimed 
himself  the  relative  and  heir  of  Julian. ^  The  astrolo- 
gers had  predicted  the  elevation  of  Procopius  to  the 
greatest  height,  —  of  empire,  as  his  partisans  fondly 
hoped ;  of  misery,  as  the  ingenious  seers  expounded 
the  meaning  of  their  oracle  after  his  death.^  The 
Pagan  and  philosophic  party  were  more  directly  and 
exclusively  implicated  in  the  fatal  event,  which  was 
disclosed  to  the  trembling  Valens  at  Antioch,  and 
brou2;ht  as  wide  and  relentless  desolation  on 
the  East  as  the  cruelty  of  Maximin  on  the 
West.  It  was  mingled  up  with  treasonable  designs 
against  the  throne  and  the  life  of  the  emperor.  The 
magical  ceremony  of  divination,  which  was  denounced 
before  Valens,  was  Pagan  throughout  all  its  dark 
and  mysterious  circumstances.^  The  tripod  on  which 
the  conspirators  performed  their  ill-omened  rites  was 

1  Amm.  Marc.  xxvi.  6. 

-  See  Le  Beau,  iii.  p.  2.50. 

"flare  aiirbv  tuv  em  Tolg  ixeycaratg  apxalg  yvopiadevTuv,  ev  ru)  fieyedsi 
TTjg  ovfi(popdg  yeveadaL  diaar/fioTepov.  He  was  deceived  by  the  Genethliaci. 
—  Greg.  Nyss.  de  p-ato. 

8  Philostorgius  describes  it  as  a  prediction  of  the  Gentile  oracles.  Tuv 
'EA^7?vi/fwv  xpV^TVP'-^'^-  —  iJb.  viii.  c  15. 

I  cannot  but  suspect  that  the  prohibition  of  sacrifice  mentioned  by  Liba- 
nius,  which  seems  contrary  to  the  general  policy  of  the  brothers,  and  was  but 
partially  carried  into  execution,  may  have  been  connected  with  these  trans- 
actions. 


Chap.  YII.         THE  CEREMONY  OF  DIVINATION.  45 

modelled  after  that  at  Delphi ;  it  was  consecrated  by 
magic  songs  and  frequent  and  daily  ceremonies,  ac- 
cording to  the  established  ritual.  The  house  where 
the  rite  was  held  was  purified  by  incense ;  a  kind  of 
charger  made  of  mixed  metals  was  placed  upon  the 
altar,  around  the  rim  of  which  were  letters  at  certain 
intervals.  The  officiating  diviner  wore  the  habit  of 
a  Heathen  priest,  the  linen  garments,  sandals,  and  a 
fillet  wreathed  round  his  head,  and  held  a  sprig  of 
an  auspicious  plant  in  his  hand ;  he  chanted  the 
accustomed  hymn  to  Apollo,  the  god  of  prophecy. 
The  divination  was  performed  by  a  ring  running 
round  on  a  slender  thread  and  pointing  to  certain 
letters,  which  formed  an  oracle  in  heroic  verse,  like 
those  of  Delphi.  The  fatal  prophecy  then  pointed  to 
the  three  first  and  the  last  letters  of  a  name,  like 
TheodoTus,  as  the  fated  successor  of  Yalens. 

Among  the  innumerable  victims  to  the  fears  and 
the  vengeance  of  Yalens,  whom  the  ordinary  prisons 
were  not  capacious  enough  to  contain,  those  who  either 
were,  or  were  suspected  of  having  been,  intrusted  with 
the  fatal  secret,  were  almost  all  the  chiefs  of  the  philo- 
sophic party.  Hilarius  of  Phrygia,  with  whom  are 
associated,  by  one  historian,  Patricius  of  Lydia  and 
Andronicus  of  Caria,  all  men  of  the  most  profound 
learning,^  and  skilled  in  divination,  were  those  who 
had  been  consulted  on  that  unpardoned  and  unpar- 
donable offence,  the  inquiring  the  name  of  the  suc- 
cessor to  the  reigning  sovereign.  They  were,  in  fact, 
the  conductors  of  the  magic  ceremony,  and  in  their 
confession  betrayed  the  secret  circumstances  of  the 
incantation.  Some,  among  whom  appears  the  name 
of  lamblichus,  escaped  by  miracle  from  torture  and 

1  Zosimus,  iv.  15. 


46  THE  FATE   OF  MAXIMUS.  Book  IIL 

execution.^  Libanius  himself  (this  may  be  observed 
as  evidence  how  closely  magic  and  philosophy  were 
mingled  up  together  in  the  popular  opinion)  had 
already  escaped  with  difficulty  two  charges  of  unlaw- 
ful practices; 2  on  this  occasion,, to  the  general  sur- 
prise, he  had  the  same  good  fortune  :  either  the  favor 
or  the  clemency  of  the  emperor,  or  some  interest  with 
the  general  accusers  of  his  friends,  exempted  him 
from  the  common  peril.  Of  those  whose  sufferings 
are  recorded,  Pasiphilus  resisted  the  extremity  of 
torture  rather  than  give  evidence  against  an  innocent 
man :  that  man  was  Eutropius,  who  held  the  rank  of 
Proconsul  of  Asia.  Simonides,  though  but  a  youth, 
was  one  of  the  most  austere  disciples  of  philosophy. 
He  boldly  admitted  that  he  was  cognizant  of  the 
dangerous  secret,  but  he  kept  it  undivulged.  Simon- 
ides was  judged  worthy  of  a  more  barbarous  death 
than  the  rest :  he  was  condemned  to  be  burned  alive  ; 
and  the  martyr  of  philosophy  calmly  ascended  the 
funeral  pile. 

The  fate  of  Maximus,  since  the  death  of  Julian,  had 
been  marked  with  strange  vicissitude.  With  Prisons, 
on  the  accession  of  Valentinian,  he  was  summoned 
before  the  imperial  tribunal.  The  blameless  Priscus 
was  dismissed ;  but  Maximus,  who,  according  to  his 
own  friends,  had  displayed,  during  the  life  of  Julian, 
a  pomp  and  luxuriousness  unseemly  in  a  philosopher, 
was  sent  back  to  Ephesus,  and  amerced  in  a  heavy 
fine,  utterly  disproportioned  to  philosophic  poverty. 
The  fine  was  mitigated,  but,  in  its  diminished  amount, 
exacted  by  cruel  tortures.  Maximus,  in  his  agony, 
entreated  his  wife  to  purchase  poison  to  rid  him  of  his 
miserable  life.     The  wife  obeyed,  but  insisted  on  tak- 

1  See  Zonaras,  13,  2.  2  vit.  i.  114. 


Chap.  VII.  DESTRUCTION  OF  MANUSCRIPTS.  47 

ing  the  first  draught:  she  drank,  expired,  and  Maxi- 
mus  —  declined  to  drink.  He  was  so  fortunate  as  to 
attract  the  notice  of  Clear chus.  Proconsul  of  Asia : 
he  was  released  from  his  bonds,  rose  in  wealth  and 
influence,  returned  to  Constantinople,  and  resumed 
his  former  state.  The  fatal  secret  had  been  communi- 
cated to  Maximus.  He  had  the  wisdom,  his  partisans 
declared  the  prophetic  foresight,  to  discern  the  perilous 
consequences  of  the  treason.  He  predicted  the  speedy 
death  of  himself  and  of  all  who  were  in  possession  of 
the  secret.  He  added,  it  is  said,  a  more  wonderful 
oracle,  —  that  the  emperor  himself  would  soon  perish 
by  a  strange  death,  and  not  even  find  burial.  Max- 
imus was  apprehended,  and  carried  to  Antioch.  After 
a  hasty  trial,  in  which  he  confessed  his  knowledge  of 
the  oracle,  but  declared  that  he  esteemed  it  unworthy 
of  a  philosopher  to  divulge  a  secret  intrusted  to  him 
by  his  friends,  he  was  taken  back  to  Ephesus,  and 
there  executed  with  all  the  rest  of  his  party  who  were 
implicated  in  the  conspiracy.  Festus,  it  is  said,  who 
presided  over  the  execution,  was  haunted  in  after  life 
by  a  vision  of  Maximus  dragging  him  to  judgment 
before  the  infernal  deities.^  Though  a  despiser  of  the 
gods,  a  Christian,  Festus  was  compelled  by  his  terrors 
to  sacrifice  to  the  Eumenides,  the  avengers  of  blood ; 
and,  having  so  done,  he  fell  down  dead.  So  com- 
pletely did  the  cause  of  the  Pagan  deities  appear 
involved  with  that  of  the  persecuted  philosophers. 

Nor  was  this  persecution  without  considerable  in- 
fluence on  the  literature  of  Greece.  So  severe  an 
inquisition  was  instituted  into  the  possession  of  magi- 
cal books,  that,  in  order  to  justify  their  sanguinary 
proceedings,  vast  heaps  of  manuscripts  relating  to  law 

1  Eunap.  Vit.  Maxim.    Amm.  Marc.  xxix.  1. 


48  STATE  OF  CHRISTIANITY  Book  III. 

and  general  literature  were  publicly  burned,  as  if  they 
contained  unlawful  matter.  Many  men  of  letters 
throughout  the  East,  in  their  terror,  destroyed  their 
whole  libraries,  lest  some  innocent  or  unsuspected 
work  should  be  seized  by  the  ignorant  or  malicious 
informer,  and  bring  them  unknowingly  within  the 
relentless  penalties  of  the  law.^  From  this  period, 
philosophy  is  almost  extinct ;  and  Paganism,  in  the 
East,  drags  on  its  silent  and  inglorious  existence, 
deprived  of  its  literary  aristocracy,  and  opposing  only 
the  inert  resistance  of  habit  to  the  triumphant  energy 
of  Christianity. 

Arianism,  under  the  influence  of  Yalens,  main- 
state  of         tained  its  ascendency  in  the  East.     Throuffh- 

ChrLstianity  ''  ° 

in  the  East.  Qut  tlic  wliolc  of  that  divlsiou  of  the  empire, 
the  two  forms  of  Christianity  still  subsisted  in  irrecon 
cilable  hostility.  Almost  every  city  had  two  prelates, 
each  at  the  head  of  his  separate  communion ;  the  one, 
according  to  the  powers  or  the  numbers  of  his  i^arty, 
assuming  the  rank  and  title  of  the  legitimate  bishop, 
and  looking  down,  though  with  jealous  animosity,  on 
his  factious  rival.  During  the  life  of  Athanasius,  the 
see  of  Alexandria  remained  faithful  to  the  Trinitarian 
doctrines.  For  a  short  period,  indeed,  the  prelate  was 
obliged  to  retire,  during  what  is  called  his  fifth  exile, 
to  the  tomb  of  his  father ;  but  he  was  speedily  wel- 
comed back  by  the  acclamations  of  his  followers,  and 
the  baffled  imperial  authority  acquiesced  in  his  peace- 
ful rule  till  his  decease.  But  at  his  death,  five  years 
afterwards,  were  renewed  the  old  scenes  of  discord 
and   bloodshed.     Palladius,  the   Prefect   of 

A.D.  373. 

Egypt,  received  the  imperial  commission  to 

1  Amm.  Marcell.  xxix.  1.  "  Inde  factum  est  per  Orientales  provincias, 
ut  omnes  metu  similium  exurerent  libraria  omnia :  tantus  imiversos  iuvaserat 
terror."  — xxix.  2.    Compare  Heyne,  note  on  Zosimus. 


CHAP.Vn.  IN  THE  EAST.  49 

install  the  Ariaii  prelate,  Lucius,  on  the  throne  of 
Alexandria.  Palladius  was  a  Pagan,  and  the  Catholic 
writers  bitterly  reproach  their  rivals  with  this  mon- 
strous alliance.  It  was  rumored  that  the  Pagan  pop- 
ulation welcomed  the  Arian  prelate  with  hymns  of 
gratulation  as  the  friend  of  the  god  Serapis,  as  the 
restorer  of  his  worship. 

In  Constantinople,  Yalens  had  received  baptism 
from  Eudoxus,  the  aged  Arian  prelate  of 
that  see.  Sacerdotal  influence,  once  obtained 
over  the  feeble  mind  of  Yalens,  was  likely  to  carry 
him  to  any  extreme ;  yet,  on  the  other  hand,  he  might 
be  restrained  and  overawed  by  calm  and  dignified  re- 
sistance. In  general,  therefore,  he  might  yield  himself 
up  as  an  instrument  to  the  passions,  jealousies,  and 
persecuting  violence  of  his  own  party :  while  he  might 
have  recourse  to  violence  to  place  Demophilus  on  the 
episcopal  throne  of  Constantinople,  he  might  be  awed 
into  a  more  tolerant  and  equitable  tone  by  the  elo- 
quence and  commanding  character  of  Basil.  It  is 
unjust  to  load  the  memory  of  Yalens  with  the  most 
atrocious  crime  which  has  been  charged  upon  him  by 
the  vindictive  exaggeration  of  his  triumphant  religious 
adversaries.  As  a  deputation  of  eighty  Catholic  eccle- 
siastics of  Constantinople  were  returning  from  Nico- 
media,  the  vessel  was  burned,  the  crew  took  to  the 
boat,  the  ecclesiastics  perished  to  a  man.  As  no  one 
escaped  to  tell  the  tale,  and  the  crew,  if  accomplices, 
were  not  likely  to  accuse  themselves,  we  may  fairly 
doubt  the  assertion  that  orders  had  been  secretly 
issued  by  Yalens  to  perpetrate  this  wanton  barbarity. 

The  memorable  interview  with  St.  Basil,  as  it  is  re- 
lated by  the  Catholic  party,  displays,  if  the  interriew 
weakness,  certainly  the  patience  and  tolera-  ^^^^'^ 


50  INTERVIEW   WITH  BASIL.  Book  IU. 

tion,  of  the  sovereign  ;  if  the  uncompromising  firmness 
of  the  prelate,  some  of  that  leaven  of  pride  with 
which  he  is  taunted  by  Jerome. 

During  his  circuit  through  the  Asiatic  provinces, 
the  emperor  approached  the  city  of  Csesarea  in  Cappa- 
docia.  Modestus,  the  violent  and  unscrupulous  favor- 
ite of  Yalens,  was  sent  before,  to  persuade  the  bishop 
to  submit  to  the  religion  of  the  emperor.  Basil  was 
inflexible.  '^Know  you  not,"  said  the  of- 
fended officer, "  that  I  have  power  to  strip  you 
of  all  your  possessions,  to  banish  you,  to  deprive 
you  of  life  ?  "  "  He,"  answered  Basil,  "  who  possesses 
nothing  can  lose  nothing:  all  you  can  take  from  me 
is  the  wretched  garments  I  wear,  and  the  few  books, 
which  are  my  only  wealth.  As  to  exile,  the  earth  is 
the  Lord's  ;  everywhere  it  will  be  my  country,  or 
rather  my  place  of  pilgrimage.  Death  will  be  a 
mercy ;  it  will  but  admit  me  into  life :  long  have  I 
been  dead  to  this  world."  Modestus  expressed  his 
surprise  at  this  unusual  tone  of  intrepid  address. 
"  You  have  never,  then,"  replied  the  prelate,  "  before 
conversed  with  a  bishop  ?  "  Modestus  returned  to  his 
master.  "  Violence  will  be  the  only  course  with  this 
man,  who  is  neither  to  be  appalled  by  menaces,  nor 
won  by  blandishments."  But  the  emperor  shrunk 
from  such  harsh  measures.  His  humbler  supplication 
confined  itself  to  the  admission  of  Arians  into  the 
communion  of  Basil ;  but  he  implored  in  vain.  The 
emperor  mingled  with  the  crowd  of  undistinguished 
worshippers ;  but  he  was  so  impressed  by  the  solem- 
nity of  the  Catholic  service,  the  deep  and  full  chant- 
ing of  the  psalms,  the  silent  adoration  of  the  people, 
the  order  and  the  majesty,  as  well  as  by  the  calm  dig- 
nity, of  the  bishop  and  of  his  attendant  clergy,  which 


Chap.YIL  influence  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  51 

appeared  more  like  the  serenity  of  angels  than  the 
busy  scene  of  mortal  men,  that,  awe-struck  and  over- 
powered, he  scarcely  ventured  to  approach  to  make 
his  offering.  The  clergy  stood  irresolute  whether  they 
were  to  receive  it  from  the  infectious  hand  of  an 
Arian  ;  Basil,  at  length,  while  tlie  trembling  emperor 
leaned  for  support  on  an  attendant  priest,  conde- 
scended to  advance  and  accept  the  oblation.  But 
neither  supplications  nor  bribes  nor  threats  could 
induce  the  bishop  to  admit  the  sovereign  to  the  com- 
munion. In  a  personal  interview,  instead  of  convinc- 
ing the  bishop,  Yalens  was  so  overpowered  by  the 
eloquence  of  Basil,  as  to  bestow  an  endowment  on 
the  church  for  the  use  of  the  poor.  A  scene  of  min- 
gled intrigue  and  asserted  miracle  ensued.  The  exile 
of  Basil  was  determined,  but  the  mind  of  Yalens  was 
alarmed  by  the  dangerous  illness  of  his  son.  The 
prayers  of  Basil  were  said  to  have  restored  the  youth 
to  life ;  but  a  short  time  after,  having  been  baptized 
by  Arian  hands,  he  relapsed  and  died.  Basil,  how- 
ever, maintained  his  place  and  dignity  to  the  end.^ 

But  the  fate  of  Yalens  drew  on.     It  was  followed  by 
the  first  permanent  establishment  of  the  bar-  ^^^^  ^^ 
barians  within  the  frontiers  of  the   Roman  fn^mitigatiL 
^npire.     Christianity  now  began  to  assume  fjlt-blfun^ 
a  new  and  important  function,  —  that  assimi-  ^"^=^^i°^- 
lation   and   union  between   the   conquerors    and   the 
conquered,  which  prevented  the  total  extinction  of  the 
Roman  civilization,  and  the  oppression  of  Europe  by 
complete  and   almost  hopeless   barbarism.     However 
Christianity   might    have    disturbed    the    peace,   and 
therefore,  in  some  degree,  the  stability,  of  the  empire, 

1  Greg.  Naz.,  Orat.  xx. ;   Greg.  Nyss.  contra  Eiinom. ;   and  the  eccle- 
siastical historians,  in  loc. 


52  INFLUENCE  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  Book  III. 

bj  the  religious  factions  which  distracted  the  principal 
cities ;  however  that  foreign  principle  of  celibacy, 
which  had  now  become  completely  identified  with  it, 
by  withdrawing  so  many  active  and  powerful  minds 
into  the  cloister  or  the  hermitage,  may  have  diminished 
the  civil  energies,  and  even  have  impaired  the  military 
forces  of  the  empire,^  —  yet  the  enterprising  and  vic- 
torious religion  amply  repaid  those  injuries  by  its 
influence  in  remodelling  the  new  state  of  society.  If 
treacherous  to  the  interests  of  the  Roman  empire,  it 
was  true  to  those  of  mankind.  Throughout  the  whole 
process  of  the  resettling  of  Europe  and  the  other 
provinces  of  the  empire,  by  the  migratory  tribes  from 
the  north  and  east,  and  the  vast  system  of  colonization 
and  conquest  which  introduced  one  or  more  new  races 
into  every  province,  Christianity  was  the  one  common 
bond,  the  harmonizing  principle,  which  subdued  to 
something  like  unity  the  adverse  and  conflicting  ele- 
ments of  society.  Christianity,  no  doubt,  while  it 
discharged  this  lofty  mission,  could  not  but  undergo 
a  great  and  desecrating  change.  It  might  repress,  but 
could  not  altogether  subdue,  the  advance  of  barba,- 
rism ;  it  was  constrained  to  accommodate  itself  to  the 
spirit  of  the  times ;  while  struggling  to  counteract 
barbarism,  itself  became  barbarized.  It  lost  at  onc^ 
much  of  its  purity  and  its  gentleness  ;  it  became 
splendid  and  imaginative,  warlike,  and  at  length  chiv- 
alrous. 

When  a  country  in  a  comparatively  high  state  of 

1  Valens,  perceiving  the  actual  operation  of  this  unwarlike  dedication  of 
so  many  able-bodied  men  to  useless  inactivity,  attempted  to  correct  the  evil 
by  law,  and  by  the  strong  interference  of  the  government.  He  invaded  the 
monasteries  and  solitary  hermitages  of  Egypt,  and  swept  the  monks  by 
thousands  into  the  ranks  of  his  army.  But  a  reluctant  Egypti&n  monk 
would,  in  general,  make  but  an  indifferent  soldier. 


Chap.  YII.      INFLUENCE  OF  THE  CLERGY.  53 

civilization  is  overrun  by  a  foreign  and  martial  horde, 
in  numbers  too  great  to  be  absorbed  by  the  local  popu 
lation,  the  conquerors  usually  establish  themselves  as 
a  kind  of  armed  aristocracy,  while  the  conquered  are 
depressed  into  a  race  of  slaves.  Where  there  is  no 
coimecting,  no  intermediate  power,  the  two  races  co- 
exist in  stern  and  implacable  hostility.  The  difference 
in  privilege,  and  often  in  the  territorial  possession  of  the 
land,  is  increased  and  rendered  more  strongly  marked 
by  the  total  want  of  communion  in  blood.  Intermar- 
riages, if  not,  as  commonly,  prohibited  by  law,  are 
almost  entirely  discountenanced  by  general  opinion. 
Such  was,  in  fact,  the  ordinary  process  in  the  forma- 
tion of  the  society  which  arose  out  of  the  ruins  of  the 
Roman  empire.  The  conquerors  became  usually  a 
military  aristocracy ;  assumed  the  property  in  the  con- 
quered lands,  or,  at  least,  a  considerable  share  in  the 
landed  estates,  and  laid  the  groundwork  for  that  feudal 
system  which  was  afterwards  developed  with  more  or 
less  completeness  in  different  countries  of  Europe. 

One  thing  alone,  in  some  cases,  tempered,  during  the 
process  of  conquest,  the  irreclaimable  hos-  influence  of 
tility;  in  all,  after  the  final  settlement,  *^««i^^^- 
moulded  up  together  in  some  degree  the  adverse  pow- 
ers. Where,  as  in  the  Gothic  invasion,  it  had  made 
some  previous  impression  on  the  invading  race,  Chris- 
tianity was  constantly  present,  silently  mitigating  the 
horrors  of  the  war,  and  afterwards  blending  together, 
at  least  to  a  certain  extent,  the  rival  races.  At  all 
times,  it  became  the  connecting  link,  the  intermediate 
power,  which  gave  some  community  of  interest,  some 
similarity  of  feeling,  to  the  master  and  the  slave. 
They  worshipped  at  least  the  same  God,  in  the  same 
church ;    and  the  care  of  the  same  clergy  embraced 


54  BIPORTANCE  OF  THE  CLERGY.  Book  IIL 

both  with  something  of  an  harmonizing  and  equaUzing 
superintendence.  The  Christian  clergy  occupied  a 
singular  position  in  this  new  state  of  society.  At  the 
earlier  period,  they  were,  in  general,  Roman ;  later, 
though  sometimes  barbarian  by  birth,  they  were  Roman 
in  education.  When  the  prostration  of  the  conquered 
people  was  complete,  there  was  still  an  order  of  people, 
not  strictly  belonging  to  either  race,  which  maintained 
a  commanding  attitude,  and  possessed  certain  author- 
ity. The  Christian  bishop  confronted  the  barbarian 
sovereign  or  took  his  rank  among  the  leading  nobles. 
During  the  invasion,  the  Christian  clergy,  though  their 
possessions  were  ravaged  in  the  indiscriminate  war- 
fare, though  their  persons  were  not  always  secure  from 
insult  or  from  slavery,  yet,  on  the  whole,  retained,  or 
very  soon  resumed,  a  certain  sanctity,  and  hastened, 
before  long,  to  wind  their  chains  around  the  minds  of 
the  conquerors.  Before  a  new  invasion,  Christianity 
had,  in  general,  mingled  the  invaders  with  the  invaded  ; 
till  at  length  Europe,  instead  of  being  a  number  of 
disconnected  kingdoms,  hostile  in  race,  in  civil  polity, 
in  religion,  was  united  in  a  kind  of  federal  Christian 
republic,  on  a  principle  of  unity,  acknowledging  the 
supremacy  of  the  pope. 

The  overweening  authority  claimed  and  exercised  by 
Their  im-  "^^^^  clcrgj,  tlicir  cxistcnce  as  a  separate  and 
thisTewlrate  exclusivc  castc,  at  this  particular  period  in 
of  things,  ^i^g  progress  of  civilization,  became  of  the 
highest  utility.  A  religion  without  a  powerful  and 
separate  sacerdotal  order,  even,  perhaps,  if  that  order 
had  not  in  general  been  bound  to  celibacy  and  so  pre- 
vented from  degenerating  into  an  hereditary  caste, 
would  have  been  absorbed  and  lost  in  the  conflict  and 
confusion  of  the  times.     Religion,  unless  invested  by 


Chap.  VII.  INFLUENCE   OF   CHRISTIANITY.  55 

general  opinion  in  high  authority,  and  that  authority 
asvserted  by  an  active  and  incorporated  class,  would 
scarcely  have  struggled  through  this  complete  disor- 
ganization of  all  the  existing  relations  of  society.  The 
respect  which  the  clergy  maintained  was  increased  by 
their  being  almost  the  exclusive  possessors  of  that 
learning  which  commands  the  reverence  even  of  bar- 
barians, when  not  actually  engaged  in  war.  A  religion 
which  rests  on  a  written  record,  however  that  record 
may  be  but  rarely  studied,  and  by  a  few  only  of  its 
professed  interpreters,  enforces  general  respect  to 
literary  attainment.  Though  the  traditional  commen- 
tary may  overload  or  supersede  the  original  book,  the 
commentary  itself  is  necessarily  committed  to  writing, 
and  becomes  another  subject  of  honored  and  laborious 
study.  All  other  kinds  of  literature,  as  far  as  they 
survive,  gladly  rank  themselves  under  the  protection 
of  that  which  commands  reverence  for  its  re-  influence  of 

Christianity 

ligious  authority.  The  cloister  or  the  reli-  on  literature, 
gious  foundation  thus  became  the  place  of  refuge  to  all 
that  remained  of  letters  or  of  arts.  Knowledge  brooded 
in  secret,  though  almost  with  unproductive,  yet  with 
life-sustaining  warmth,  over  these  secluded  treasures. 
But  it  was  not  merely  an  inert  and  quiescent  resist- 
ance which  was  thus  offered  to  barbarism:  it  was 
perpetually  extending  its  encroachments,  as  well  as 
maintaining  its  place.  Perhaps  the  degree  to  which 
the  Roman  language  modified  the  Teutonic  tongues 
may  be  a  fair  example  of  the  extent  to  which  the  Ro- 
man civilization  generally  leavened  the  manners  and 
the  laws  of  the  Northern  nations. 

The  language  of  the  conquered  people  lived  in  the 
religious  ritual.     Throue-hout  the  rapid  suc- 

o  "-^  ^  on  language, 

cession  of  invaders  who  passed  over  Europe, 


56  INFLUENCE  OF   CHRISTIANITY.  B<.<_k  IIL 

seeking  their  final  settlement,  some  in  the  remotest 
province  of  Africa,  before  the  formation  of  other  dia 
lects,  the  Latin  was  kept  alive  as  the  language  of 
Western  Christianity.  The  clergy  were  its  conserva- 
tors, the  Yulgate  Bible  and  the  offices  of  the  Church 
its  depositaries,  unviolated  by  any  barbarous  interrup- 
tion, respected  as  the  oracles  of  divine  truth.  But  the 
constant  repetition  of  this  language  in  the  ears  of  the 
mingled  people  can  scarcely  have  been  without  influ- 
ence in  increasing  and  strengthening  the  Roman  ele- 
ment in  the  common  language,  which  gradually  grew 
up  from  mutual  intercourse,  intermarriage,  and  all  the 
other  bonds  of  community  which  blended  together 
the  various  races. 

The  old  municipal  institutions  of  the  empire  probably 
owed  their  permanence,  in  no  inconsiderable  degree, 
to  Cliristianity.  It  has  been  observed  in  what  manner 
onthemu-  tlic  decurionatc,  the  municipal  authorities  of 
stitutions,  each  town,  through  the  extraordinary  and 
oppressive  system  of  taxation,  from  guardians  of  the 
liberties  of  the  people,  became  mere  passive  and  un- 
willing agents  of  the  Government.  Responsible  for 
payments  which  they  could  not  exact,  men  of  opulence, 
men  of  humanity,  shrunk  from  the  public  offices. 
From  objects  of  honorable  ambition,  these  functions 
had  become  burdens,  loaded  with  unrepaid  unpopular- 
ity, assumed  by  compulsion,  and  exercised  with  reluc- 
tance. The  defensors^  instituted  by  Valentinian  and 
Valens,  however  they  might  afford  temporary  protec- 
tion and  relief  to  the  lower  orders,  scarcely  exercised 
any  long  or  lasting  influence  on  the  state  of  society. 
Yet  the  municipal  authorities  at  least  retained  the 
power  of  administering  the  laws  ;  and,  as  the  law  be- 
came more  and  more  impregnated  with  Christian  sen- 


Chap.  VII.  INFLUENCE  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  57 

timent,  it  assumed  something  of  a  religious  as  well  as 
civil  authority.  The  magistrate  became,  as  it  were,  an 
ally  of  the  Christian  bishop ;  the  institutions  had  a  sa- 
cred character,  besides  that  of  their  general  utility. 
Whatever  remained  of  commerce  and  of  art  subsisted 
chiefly  among  the  old  Roman  population  of  the  cities, 
which  was  already  Christian ;  and  hence,  perhaps,  the 
guilds  and  fraternities  of  the  trades,  which  may  be 
traced  up  to  an  early  period,  gradually  assumed  a  sort 
of  religious  bond  of  union.  In  all  points,  the  Roman 
civilization  and  Christianity,  when  the  latter  had  com- 
pletely pervaded  the  various  orders  of  men,  began  to 
make  common  cause  ;  and  during  all  the  time  that  this 
disorganization  of  conquest  and  new  settlement  was 
taking  place  in  this  groundwork  of  the  Roman  social 
system,  and  the  loose  elements  of  society  were  severing 
by  gradual  disunion,  a  new  confederative  principle 
arose  in  these  smaller  aggregations,  as  well  as  in  the 
general  population  of  the  empire.  The  Church  became 
another  centre  of  union.  Men  incorporated  themselves 
together,  not  only,  nor  so  much,  as  fellow-citizens,  as 
fellow-Christians.  They  submitted  to  an  authority  co- 
ordinate with  the  civil  power,  and  united  as  members 
of  the  same  religious  fraternity. 

Christianity,  to  a  certain  degree,  changed  the  gen- 
eral habits  of  men.  For  a  time,  at  least,  on  general 
they  were  less  public,  more  private  and  do-  ^^^'*^" 
mestic,  men.  The  tendency  of  Christianity,  while  the 
Christians  composed  a  separate  and  distinct  commu- 
nity, to  withdraw  men  from  public  affairs  ;  their  less 
frequent  attendance  on  the  courts  of  law,  which  were 
superseded  by  their  own  peculiar  arbitration ;  their 
repugnance  to  the  ordinary  amusements,  which  soon, 
however,  in  the  large  cities,  such  as  Antioch  and  Con- 


58  INFLUENCE  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  Book  HI. 

stantinople,  wore  off,  —  all  these  principles  of  disunion 
ceased  to  operate  when  Christianity  became  the  domi- 
nant, and  at  length  the  exclusive,  religion.  The 
Christian  community  became  the  people  ;  the  shows, 
the  pomps,  the  ceremonial,  of  the  religion,  replaced  the 
former  seasons  of  periodical  popular  excitement;  the 
amusements  which  were  not  extirpated  by  the  change 
of  sentiment  —  some  theatrical  exhibitions  and  the 
chariot  race  —  were  crowded  with  Christian  specta- 
tors ;  Christians  ascended  the  tribunals  of  law  :  not 
only  the  spirit  and  language  of  the  New  Testament, 
but  likewise  of  the  Old,  entered  both  into  the  Roman 
jurisprudence  and  into  the  various  barbarian  codes,  in 
wdiich  the  Roman  law  was  mingled  with  the  old  Teu- 
tonic usages.  Thus  Christianity  was  perpetually 
discharging  the  double  office  of  conservator,  with 
regard  to  the  social  institutions  with  which  she  had 
entered  into  alliance,  and  of  mediator  between  the 
conflicting  races  which  she  was  gathering  together 
under  her  own  wing.  Where  the  relation  between  the 
foreign  conqueror  and  the  conquered  inhabitant  of  the 
empire  was  that  of  master  and  slave,  the  Roman  eccle- 
siastic still  maintained  his  independence,  and  speedily 
regained  his  authority  ;  he  only  admitted  the  barbarian 
into  his  order  on  the  condition  that  he  became  to  a 
certain  degree  Romanized  ;  and  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  the  gentle  influence  of  Christian  charity  and  hu- 
manity was  not  without  its  effect  in  mitigating  the  lot, 
or  at  least  in  consoling  the  misery  of  the  change  from 
independence  or  superiority  to  humiliation  and  servi- 
tude. Where  the  two  races  mingled,  as  seems  to  have 
been  the  case  in  some  of  the  towns  and  cities,  on  more 
equal  terms,  by  strengthening  the  municipal  institu- 
tions with  something  of  a  religious  character,  and  by 


Chap.  VII.       CHRISTIANITY  AMONG   THE  GOTHS.  59 

its  own  powerful  federative  principle,  it  condensed 
them  mucli  more  speedily  into  one  people,  and  assim- 
ilated their  manners,  habits,  and  usages. 

Christianity  had   early,   as   it   were,   prepared   the 
way  for  this  amalgamation  of  the  Goths  with  jj^riy 
the  Roman  empire.     In  their  first  inroads  among'the^ 
during  the  reign  of  Gallic nus,  when  the  Goths  ^°*'^^' 
ravished  a  large  part  of  the  Roman  empire,  they  carried 
away  numbers  of  slaves,  especially  from  Asia  Minor 
and   Cappadocia.     Among   these   were    many   Chris- 
tians.   The  slaves  subdued  the  conquerors  ;  the  gentle 
doctrines  of  Christianity  made  their  way  to  the  hearts 
of  the  barbarous  warriors.     The  families  of  the  slaves 
continued  to  supply  the  priesthood   to    this   growing 
community.    A  Gothic  bishop,^  with  a  Greek  name, 
Theophilus,  attended  at  the  Council  of  Nicaea ;  Ulphi- 
las,  at  the  time  of  the  invasion  in  the  reign  of  Valens, 
consecrated  bishop  of  the  Goths  during  an  em-  uipiniass 
bassy  to  Constantinople,  was  of  Cappadocian  scriptures. 
descent.^    Among  the  Goths,  Christianity  first  assumed 
its  new  office,  the  advancement  of  general  civilization, 
as  well  as  of  purer  religion.     It  is  difficult  to  suppose 
that  the  art  of  writing  was  altogether  unknown  to  the 
Goths  before  the  time  of  Ulphilas.     The  language  seems 
to  have  attained  a  high  degree  of  artificial  perfection 
before  it  was  employed  by  that  prelate  in  the  translation 
of  the  Scriptures.^    Still  the  Maeso-Gothic  alphabet,  of 
which  the  Greek  is  by  far  the  principal  element,  was 

1  Philostorgius,  ii.  5.  2  Socrates,  ii.  41. 

3  The  Gothic  of  Ulphilas  is  the  link  between  the  East  and  Europe,  the 
transition  state  from  the  Sanscrit  to  the  modern  Teutonic  languages.  It  is 
possible  that  the  Goths,  after  their  migration  from  the  East  to  the  north  of 
Germany,  may  have  lost  the  art  of  writing,  partly  from  the  want  of  mate- 
rials. The  German  forests  would  afford  no  substitute  for  the  palm-leaves  of 
the  East ;  they  may  have  been  reduced  to  the  barbarous  runes  of  the  other 
Heathen  tribes.    Compare  Bopp.,  Conjugations  System. 


60  THE  GOTHIC  OF  ULPHILAS.  Book  HI. 

generally  adopted  by  the  Goths.^  It  was  universally 
disseminated  ;  it  was  perpetuated,  until  the  extinction 
or  absorption  of  the  Gothic  race  in  other  tribes,  by  the 
translation  of  the  sacred  writings.  This  was  the  work 
of  Uli^hilas,  who  in  his  version  of  the  Scriptures, ^  is 
reported  to  have  omitted,  with  a  Christian  but  vain 
precaution,  the  books  of  Kings,  lest,  being  too  con- 
genial to  the  spirit  of  his  countrymen,  they  should 
inflame  their  warlike  enthusiasm.  Whether  the  gen- 
uine mildness  of  Christianity,  or  some  patriotic  rever- 
ence for  the  Roman  empire,  from  which  he  drew  liis 
descent,  influenced  the  pious  bishop,  the  martial  ardor 
of  the  Goths  was  not  the  less  fatal  to  the  stability  of 
the  Roman  empire.  Christianity  did  not  even  miti- 
gate the  violence  of  the  shock  with  which,  for  the  first 
time,  a  whole  host  of  Northern  barbarians  was  thrown 
upon  the  empire,  never  again  to  be  shaken  ofl".  This 
Gothic  invasion,  which  first  established  a  Teutonic 
nation  within   the   frontier   of  the    empire,  was  con- 

1  The  Mgeso-Gothic  alphabet  has  twenty-five  letters,  of  which  fifteen  are 
evidently  Greek,  eight  Latin.  The  two,  th  and  hw^  to  which  the  Greek  and 
Latin  have  no  corresponding  sound,  are  derived  from  some  other  quarter. 
They  are  most  likely  ancient  characters.  The  th  resembles  closely  the  Runic 
letter  which  expresses  the  same  sound.  See  St.  Martin,  note  on  Le  Beau, 
iii.  p.  120. 

2  The  greater  part  of  the  fragments  of  Ulphilas's  version  of  the  Scriptures 
now  extant  is  contained  in  the  celebrated  Codex  Argenteus,  now  at  Upsala. 
This  splendid  MS.,  written  in  silver  letters,  on  parchment  of  a  purple 
ground,  contains  almost  the  whole  four  Gospels.  Knittel,  in  1762,  dis- 
covered five  chapters  of  St.  Paul's  Epistle  to  the  Romans,  in  a  Palimpsest  MS. 
at  Wolfenbuttel.  The  best  edition  of  the  Avhole  of  this  is  by  J.  Christ.  Zahn. 
Weissenfels,  1805.  Since  that  time,  M.  Mai  has  published,  firom  Milan 
Palimpsests,  several  other  fi-agments,  chiefly  of  the  other  Epistles  of  St. 
Paul.  Milan,  1819.  — St.  Martin,  notes  to  Le  Beau,  iii.  100.  On  the 
Gothic  translation  of  the  Scriptures,  see  Socrat.  iv.  33,  Sozom  vi.  37. 
Philostorgius,  ii.  5.  Compare  Theodoret,  v.  30-31.  A  complete  edition  of 
the  remains  of  the  Bible  of  Ulphilas  was  published  by  Dr.  Gabelentz  and 
Dr.  Lobe,  1838,  but  the  most  useful  edition  is  that  of  Massmann.  Stuttgart, 
1857. 


Chap.  VII.  ARIANISM  OF  THE  GOTHS.  61 

ducted  with  all  the  ferocity  —  provoked  indeed  on  the 
part  of  the  Romans  by  the  basest  treachery  —  of  hos- 
tile races  with  no  bond  of  connection.^ 

The  pacificatory  effect  of  the  general  conversion  of 
the  Goths  to  Christianity  was  impeded  by  the  form 
of  faith  which  they  embraced.  The  Gothic  prelates, 
Ulphilas  among  the  rest,  who  visited  the  Ananismof 
court  of  Constantinople,  found  the  Arian  *^^^°*^'- 
bishops  in  possession  of  the  chief  authority ;  they 
were  the  recognized  prelates  of  the  empire.  Whether 
their  less  cultivated  minds  were  unable  to  compre- 
hend, or  their  language  to  express,  the  fine  and  subtle 
distinctions  of  the  Trinitarian  faith,  or  they  were  per- 
suaded, as  it  was  said,  by  the  Arian  bishops  that  it 
was  mere  verbal  dispute,  these  doctrines  were  intro- 
duced among  the  Goths  before  their  passage  of  the 
Danube,  or  their  settlement  within  the  empire.  The 
whole  nation  received  this  form  of  Christianity ;  from 
them  it  appears  to  have  spread,  first  embracing  the 
other  branch  of  the  nation,  the  Ostrogoths,  among 
the  Gepidae,  the  Yandals,  and  the  Burgundians.^ 
Among  the  barbaric  conquerors  was  the  stronghold  of 
Arianism;  while  it  was  gradually  repudiated  by  the 
Romans  both  in  the  East  and  in  the  West,  it  raised  its 
head,  and  obtained  a  superiority  which  it  had  never 
before  attained,  in  Italy  and  Spain.  Whether  more 
congenial  to  the  simplicity  of  the  barbaric  mind,  or  in 

1  It  is  remarkable  to  find  a  Christian  priest  employed  as  an  ambassador 
between  the  Goths  and  the  Romans,  and  either  the  willing  or  undesigning 
instrument  of  that  stratagem  of  the  Gothic  general  which  was  so  fatal  to 
Valens.  —  Amm.  Marc.  xxxi.  12. 

2  "  Sic  quoque  Visigothi  a  Valente  Imperatore  Ariani  potius  quam  Chris- 
tiani  efFecti.  De  csetero  tarn  Ostrogothis,  quam  Gepidis  parentibus  suis  per 
affectionis  gratiam  evangelizantes,  hujus  perfidiae  culturam  edocentes  omnem 
ubique  lingua}  huj us  nationem  ad  culturam  hujus  sectae  incitavere." — Jor- 
nand.  c.  25. 


62  THE  BIBLE  OF  ULPHILAS.  Book  III. 

some  respects  cherished  on  one  side  by  the  conqueror 
as  a  proud  distinction,  and  more  cordially  detested  by 
the  Roman  population,  as  the  creed  of  their  barbarous 
masters,  Arianism  appeared  almost  to  make  common 
cause  with  the  Teutonic  invaders,  and  only  fell  with 
the  Gothic  monarchies  in  Italy  and  in  Spain.  While 
Gratian  and  Valentinian  the  Second  espoused  the 
cause  of  Trinitarianism  in  the  West  (we  shall  here- 
after resume  the  Christian  history  of  that  division  of 
the  empire),  by  measures  which  show  that  their  sacer- 
dotal advisers  were  men  of  greater  energy  and  decision 
than  their  civil  ministers,  Arianism  subsisted  almost 
as  a  foreign  and  barbarous  fovm  of  Christianity.^ 

1  The  Bible  of  Ulphilas  was  the  Bible  of  all  the  Gothic  races.  i\Iass- 
mann,  Die  Unruhe  wie  die  Nothdrang  des  ausseren  Lebens,  der  inwohnen- 
den  Thatreich  des  einheitlichen  nordischen  Menschengeschlechtes,  das  die 
Welt  erneuen  und  befreien  sollte,  fiihrte  dasselbe  von  den  friedlichen  Ufern 
der  Ostsee  iiber  die  Donau  vielmals  bis  vor  die  Thore  des  Constantinopel,  zu 
den  blutbetraukten  Gestaden  des  Schwarzsee  wie  des  Mittelmeeres,  bis  tief 
nach  Asien,  in  und  iiber  Italien  tind  Frankreich  bis  nach  Spanien  und 
Africa,  uberall  aber  trugen  sie  Uljilas  Bibel  mit  sich.'"  —  Einleitung  X.  Mass- 
mann  observes,  p.  xxiii.,  that  there  is  no  trace  of  Arianism  in  the  sur- 
viving remains  of  the  Gothic  translation  of  the  New  Testament.  The  Gothic 
of  Philip,  ii.  6  has  been  misunderstood.  The  Arian  Goths  professed  to  adhere 
to  the  words  of  Scripture;  they  avoided  the  Homoiousios  and  Homoousios; 
they  called  themselves  Catholics,  and  were  singularly  tolerant  of  the  ortho- 
dox tenets  and  of  *he  Catholic  clergy.    Compare  Latin  Christianity,  Book 

ni.  c.  2. 


Chap.  Vin.  THEODOSIUS.  63 


CHAPTER  ym. 

Theodosius.    Abolition  of  Paganism. 

The  fate  of  Yalens  summoned  to  the  empire  a  sover- 
eign not  merely  qualified  to  infuse  a  conservative 
vigor  into  the  civil  and  military  administration  of  the 
empire,  but  to  compress  into  one  uniform  system 
the  religion  of  the  Roman  world.  It  was  necessary 
that  Christianity  should  acquire  a  complete  predomi- 
nance, and  that  it  should  be  consolidated  into  one 
vigorous  and  harmonious  system.  The  relegation,  as 
it  were,  of  Arianism  among  the  Goths  and  other 
barbarous  tribes,  though  it  might  thereby  gain  a  tem- 
porary accession  of  strength,  did  not  permanently 
impede  the  final  triumph  of  Trinitarianism.  While 
the  imperial  power  was  thus  lending  its  strongest  aid 
for  the  complete  triumph  and  concentration  of  Chris- 
tianity, from  the  peculiar  character  of  the  mind  of 
Theodosius,  the  sacerdotal  order,  on  the  strength  and 
unity  of  which  was  to  rest  the  permanent  influence  of 
Christianity  during  the  approaching  centuries  of  dark- 
ness, assumed  new  energy.  A  religious  emperor, 
under  certain  circumstances,  might  have  been  the 
most  dangerous  adversary  of  the  priestly  power ;  he 
would  have  asserted  with  vigor,  which  could  not  at 
that  time  be  resisted,  the  supremacy  of  the  civil 
authority.  But  the  weaknesses,  the  vices,  of  the 
great  Theodosius,  bowed  him  down  before  the  aspiring 
priesthood,  who,  in  asserting  and  advancing  their  own 


64  THEODOSIUS.  Book  III 

authority,  were  asserting  the  cause  of  humanity.  The 
passionate  tyrant  at  the  feet  of  the  Christian  prelate, 
deploring  the  rash  resentment  which  had  condemned 
a  whole  city  to  massacre ;  the  prelate  exacting  the 
severest  penance  for  the  outrage  on  justice  and  on 
humanity,  —  stand  in  extraordinary  contrast  with  the 
older  Caesars,  themselves  the  priesthood,  without  re- 
monstrance or  without  humiliation,  glutting  their  lusts 
or  their  resentment  with  the  misery  and  blood  of  their 
subjects. 

The  accession  of  Theodosius  was  hailed  with  uni- 
versal enthusiasm  throughout  the  empire. 
The  pressing  fears  of  barbaric  invasion  on 
every  frontier  silenced  for  a  time  the  jealousies  of 
Christian  and  Pagan,  of  Arian  and  Trinitarian.  On 
the  shore  of  each  of  the  great  rivers  which  bounded 
the  empire,  appeared  a  host  of  menacing  invaders. 
The  Persians,  the  Armenians,  the  Iberians,  were  pre- 
pared to  pass  the  Euphrates  or  the  eastern  frontier ; 
the  Danube  had  already  afforded  a  passage  to  the 
Goths ;  behind  them  were  the  Huns  in  still  more  for- 
midable and  multiplying  swarms  ;  the  Franks  and  the 
rest  of  the  German  nations  were  crowding  to  the 
Rhine.  Paganism,  as  well  as  Christianity,  hastened 
to  pay  its  grateful  homage  to  the  deliverer  of  the  em- 
pire ;  the  eloquent  Themistius  addressed  Theodosius 
in  the  name  of  the  imperial  city ;  Libanius  ventured 
to  call  on  the  Christian  emperor  to  revenge  the  death 
of  Julian,  tliat  crime  for  which  the  gods  were  exacting 
just  retribution.  Pagan  poetry  awoke  from  its  long 
silence ;  the  glory  of  Theodosius  and  his  family  in- 
spired its  last  noble  effort  in  the  verse  of  Claudian. 

Theodosius  was  a  Spaniard.     In  that  province  Chris- 
tianity had  probably  found  less  resistance  from  the 


Chap.  VHI.  ABOLITION  OF  PAGANISM.  65 

feeble  provincial  Paganism ;  nor  was  there,  as  in  Gaul, 
an  old  national  religion  which  lingered  in  the  minds 
of  the  native  population.  Christianity  was  early  and 
permanently  established  in  the  Peninsula.  To  Theo- 
dosius,  who  was  but  slightly  tinged  with  the  love  of 
letters  or  the  tastes  of  a  more  liberal  education,  the 
colossal  temples  of  the  East,  or  the  more  graceful  and 
harmonious  fabrics  of  Europe,  would  probably  create 
no  feeling  but  that  of  aversion  from  the  shrines  of 
idolatry.  His  Christianity  was  pure  from  any  of  the 
old  Pagan  associations ;  unsoftened,  it  may,  perhaps, 
be  said,  by  any  feeling  for  art,  and  unawed  by  any 
reverence  for  the  ancient  religion  of  Rome :  he  was 
a  soldier,  a  provincial,  an  hereditary  Christian  of  a 
simple  and  unquestioning  faith ;  and  he  added  to  all 
this  the  consciousness  of  consummate  vigor  and  ability, 
and  a  choleric  and  vehement  temperament. 

Spain,  throughout  the  Trinitarian  controversy,  per- 
haps from  the  commanding  influence  of  Hosius,  had 
firmly  adhered  to  the  Athanasian  doctrines.  The 
Manichean  tenets,  for  which  Priscillian  and  his  fol- 
lowers suffered  (the  first  heretics  condemned  to  death 
for  their  opinions),  were  but  recently  introduced  into 
the  province. 

Thus,  by  character  and  education,  deeply  impressed 
with  Christianity,  and  that  of  a  severe  and  uncom- 
promising orthodoxy,  Theodosius  undertook  the  sacred 
obligation  of  extirpating  Paganism,  and  of  restoring 
to  Christianity  its  severe  and  inviolable  unity.  With- 
out tracing  the  succession  of  events  throughout  his 
reign,  we  may  survey  the  Christian  emperor  in  his 
acts ;  first,  as  commencing,  if  not  completing,  the  for- 
cible extermination  of  Paganism ;  secondly,  as  con- 
firming Christianity,  and  extending  the  authority  of 


66  ABOLITION   OF  PAGANISM.  Book  III. 

the  sacerdotal  order ;  and  thirdly,  as  estahlishing  the 
uniform  orthodoxy  of  the  Western  Roman  Church. 

The  laws  of  Theodosius  against  the  Pagan  sacrifices 
grew  insensibly  more  and  more  severe.  The  inspec- 
tion of  the  entrails  of  victims,  and  magic  rites,  were 
Hostility  of  made  capital  offences.  In  A.D.  391,  issued  an 
to  Paganism,  cdict  prohibiting  sacrifices,  and  even  the  en- 
tering into  the  temples.  In  the  same  year,  a  rescript 
was  addressed  to  the  court  and  Prefect  of  Egypt,  fin- 
ing the  governors  of  provinces  who  should  enter  a 
temple  fifteen  pounds  of  gold,  and  giving  a  kind  of 
authority  to  the  subordinate  officers  to  prevent  their 
superiors  from  committing  such  offences.  The  same 
year,  all  unlawful  sacrifices  are  prohibited  by  night 
or  day,  within  or  without  the  temples.  In  392,  all 
immolation  is  prohibited  under  the  penalty  of  death, 
and  all  other  acts  of  idolatry  under  forfeiture  of  the 
house  or  land  in  which  the  offence  shall  have  been 
committed. 1 

The  Pagan  temples,  left  standing  in  all  their  maj- 
esty, but  desecrated,  deserted,  overgrown,  would  have 
been  the  most  splendid  monument  to  the  triumph  of 
Christianity.  If,  with  the  disdain  of  conscious  strength, 
she  had  allowed  them  to  remain  without  victim,  with- 
out priest,  without  worshipper,  but  uninjured  and  only 
exposed  to  natural  decay  from  time  and  neglect,  pos- 
terity would  not  merely  have  been  grateful  for  the 
preservation  of  such  stupendous  and  graceful  models 
of  art,  but  would  have  been  strongly  impressed  with 
admiration  of  her  magnanimity.  But  such  magnanim- 
ity was  neither  to  be  expected  from  tlie  age  or  the 
state  of  the  religion.  The  Christians  believed  in  the 
existence  of  the  Heathen  deities,  with,  perhaps,  more 

1  Cod.  Theod.  xvi.  10,  7,  11, 12. 


Chap.  Yin.  ABOLITION  OF  PAGANISM.  67 

undoubting  faith  than  the  Heathens  themselves.  The 
demons  who  inhabited  the  temples  were  spirits  of  mar 
lignant  and  pernicious  power,  which  it  was  no  less  the 
interest  than  the  duty  of  the  Christian  to  expel  from 
their  proud  and  attractive  mansions.^  The  temples 
were  the  strongholds  of  the  vigilant  and  active  adver- 
saries of  Christian  truth  and  Christian  purity,  of  the 
enemies  of  God  and  man.  The  idols,  it  is  true,  were 
but  wood  and  stone,  but  the  beings  they  represented 
were  real ;  they  hovered,  perhaps,  in  the  air ;  they 
were  still  present  in  the  consecrated  spot,  though  re- 
buked and  controlled  by  the  mightier  name  of  Christ, 
yet  able  to  surprise  the  careless  Christian  in  his  hour 
of  supineness  or  negligent  adherence  to  his  faith  or  his 
duty.  When  zeal  inflamed  the  Christian  populace  to 
aggression  upon  any  of  these  ancient  and  time-hal- 
lowed buildings,  no  doubt  some  latent  awe  lingered 
within ;  something  of  the  suspense  of  doubtful  war- 
fare watched  the  issue  of  the  strife.  However  they 
might  have  worked  themselves  up  to  the  conviction 
that  their  ancient  gods  were  but  of  this  inferior  and 
hostile  nature,  they  would  still  be  haunted  by  some 
apprehensions,  lest  they  should  not  be  secure  of  the 
protection  of  Christ,  or  of  the  angels  and  saints  in 
the  new  tutelar  hierarchy  of  Heaven.  The  old  deities 
might  not  have  been  so  completely  rebuked  and  con- 
trolled as  not  to  retain  some  power  of  injuring  their 
rebellious  votaries.  It  was  at  last,  even  to  the  faith- 
ful, a  conflict  between  two  unequal  supernatural  agen- 
cies ;  unequal  indeed,  particularly  where  the  faith  of 
the  Christian  was  fervent  and  sincere,  yet  dependent 
for  its  event  on  the  confidence  of  that  faith  which 

1  "Dii  enim  Gentium  daemonia,  ut  Scriptura  docet."  —  Ambros.  Epist. 
Besp.  at  Symmach.  in  init. 


68  ABOLITION  OF  PAGANISM.  Book  HI. 

sometimes  trembled  at  its  own  insufficiency,  and  feared 
lest  it  should  be  abandoned  by  the  divine  support  in 
the  moment  of  strife. 

Throughout  the  East  and  West,  the  monks  were  the 
chief  actors  in  this  holy  warfare.  They  are  constantly 
spoken  of  by  the  Heathen  writers  in  terms  of  the  bit- 
terest reproach  and  contempt.  The  most  particular 
accounts  of  their  proceedings  relate  to  the  East.  Their 
desultory  attacks  were  chiefly  confined  to  the  country, 
where  the  numberless  shrines,  images,  and  smaller 
temples  were  at  the  same  time  less  protected,  and 
more  dear  to  the  feelings  of  the  people.  In  the  towns, 
the  larger  fanes,  if  less  guarded  by  the  reverence  of 
their  worshippers,  were  under  the  protection  of  the 
municipal  police.^  Christianity  was  long  almost  exclu- 
sively the  religion  of  the  towns  ;  and  the  term  "  Pagan- 
ism" (notwithstanding  the  difficulties  which  embarrass 
this  explanation)  appears  to  owe  its  origin  to  this  gen- 
eral distinction.  The  agricultural  population,  liable 
to  frequent  vicissitudes,  trembled  to  offend  the  gods,  on 
whom  depended  the  plenty  or  the  failure  of  the  harvest. 
Habits  are  more  intimately  inwoven  with  the  whole 
being  in  the  regular  labors  of  husbandry,  than  in  the 
more  various  and  changeable  occupations  of  the  city. 
The  whole  Heathen  ritual  was  bound  up  with  the 
course  of  agriculture :  this  was  the  oldest  part  both 
of  the  Grecian  and  Italian  worship,  and  had  experi- 
enced less  change  from  the  spirit  of  the  times.  In 
every  field,  in  every  garden,  stood  a  deity ;  shrines  and 
lesser  temples  were  erected  in  every  grove,  by  every 
fountain.  The  drought,  the  mildew,  the  murrain,  the 
locusts,  —  whatever  was  destructive  to  the  harvest  or 

1  TdkfiaTai  fiev  oiv  mv  ToZg  TzoTuat,  rd  ttoXi)  de  ev  Tolg  aypolg. — Liban. 
pro  Templis. 


Chap.  VIII.  DEMOLITION  OF  TEMPLES.  69 

to  the  herd,  was  in  the  power  of  these  capricious  dei- 
ties.^ Even  when  converted  to  Christianity,  the  peas- 
ant trembled  at  the  consequences  of  his  own  apostasy  ; 
and  it  is  pi'obable,  that  until  the  whole  of  this  race  of 
tutelary  deities  had  been  gradually  replaced  by  what 
we  must  call  the  inferior  divinities  of  Paganizing 
Christianity,  —  saints,  martyrs,  and  angels, —  Chris- 
tianity was  not  extensively  or  permanently  established 
in  the  rural  districts. ^ 

During  the  reign  of  Constantino,  that  first  sign  of  a 
decaying  religion,  the  alienation  of  the  prop-  Alienation 
erty  attached  to  its  maintenance,  began  to  nufo^fThe' 
be  discerned.  Some  estates  belonging  to  the  *^™p^^^- 
temples  were  seized  by  the  first  Christian  emperor, 
and  appropriated  to  the  building  of  Constantinople. 
The  favorites  of  his  successor,  as  we  have  seen,  were 
enriched  by  the  donation  of  other  sacred  estates,  and 
even  of  the  temples  themselves.^  Julian  restored  the 
greater  part  of  these  prodigal  gifts ;  but  they  were 
once  more  resumed  under  Yalentinian,  and  the  estates 
escheated  to  the  imperial  revenue.  Soon  after  the 
accession  of  Theodosius,  the  Pagans,  particularly  in 
the  East,  saw  the  storm  gathering  in  the  horizon.  The 
monks,  with  perfect  impunity,  traversed  the  rural 
districts,  demolishing  all  the  unprotected  edifices.  In 
vain  did  the  Pagans  appeal  to  the  episcopal  authority  ; 

^  Kal  Tolg  yeupyovGiv  kv  avTolg  al  elTtideg,  baat  Tvepl  re  avdpcov  not 
■)'VvaMC)v,  Kul  TEKVuv  KoX  (3oCJv,  Kot  TTjg  GTTeipofievTjg  yr/g  Kal  7re(j)VTevfievT]g. 
—  Liban.  pro  Templis. 

2  This  difference  prevailed  equally  in  the  West.  Fleury  gives  an  account 
of  the  martvTdom  of  three  missionaries  by  the  rural  population  of  a  district 
in  the  Tyrol,  who  resented  the  abolition  of  their  deities  and  their  religious 
ceremonies.  —  Hist.  Eccles.  v.  64. 

3  They  were  bestowed,  according  to  Libanius,  with  no  more  respect  than 
a  horse,  a  slave,  a  dog,  or  a  golden  cap.  The  position  of  the  slave  between 
the  horse  and  the  dog,  as  cheap  gifts,  is  curious  enough.  —  Liban.  Op.  v.  ii. 
p.  185 


70  WAR  AGAINST  THE  TEMPLES.  Book  III. 

the  bishops  declined  to  repress  the  over-active  perhaps 
but  pious  zeal  of  their  adherents.  Already  much  de- 
struction had  taken  place  among  the  smaller  rural 
shrines ;  the  temples  in  Antioch,  of  Fortune,  of  Jove, 
of  Athene,  of  Dionysus,  were  still  standing ;  but  the 
demolition  of  one  stately  temple,  either  at  Edessa  or 
Palmyra,  and  this  under  the  pretext  of  the  imperial 
authority,  had  awakened  all  the  fears  of  the  Pagans. 
^  ,.     „  Libanius  addressed  an  elaborate  oration  to 

Oration  of 

Libanius.  ^j-^^  empcror,  "  For  the  Temples."  ^  Like 
Christianity  under  the  Antonines,  Paganism  is  now 
making  its  apology  for  its  public  worship.  Paganism 
is  reduced  to  still  lower  humiliation :  one  of  its  mod- 
est arguments  against  the  destruction  of  its  temples 
is  an  appeal  to  the  taste  and  love  of  splendor,  in  favor 
of  buildings  at  least  as  ornamental  to  the  cities  as  the 
imperial  palaces.^  The  orator  even  stoops  to  suggest, 
that,  if  alienated  from  religious  uses,  and  let  for  pro- 
fane purposes,  they  might  be  a  productive  source  of 
revenue.  But  the  eloquence  and  arguments  of  Liba- 
nius were  wasted  on  deaf  and  unheeding  ears.     The 

Syrian       war  agaiust  the  temples  commenced  in  Syria ; 

destroyed,  but  it  was  uot  couductcd  with  complete  suc- 
cess. In  many  cities  the  inhabitants  rose  in  defence 
of  their  sacred  buildings,  and,  with  the  Persian  on  the 
frontier,  a  religious  war  might  have  endangered  the  al- 
legiance of  these  provinces.  The  splendid  temples, 
of  which  the  ruins  have  recently  been  discovered,  at 
Petra,^  were  defended  by  the  zealous  worshippers ; 
and  in  those,  as  well  as  at  Areopolis  an-d  Raphia,  in 

1  This  oration  was  probably  not  delivered  in  the  presence  of  Theodo- 
sius. 

2  Liban.  pro  Templis,  p.  190. 

8  Laborde's  Journey.  In  most  of  these  buildings,  Roman  architecture  of 
the  age  of  the  Antonines  is  manifest,  raised  in  general  on  the  enormous  sub- 
structions of  much  earlier  ages. 


CHAI^VIII.       STATE  OF  THE  AFRICAN  CHURCH.  71 

Palestine,  the  Pagan  ceremonial  continued  without 
disturbance.  In  Gaza,  tiie  temple  of  the  tutelar  deity, 
Marnas,  the  lord  of  men,  was  closed ;  but  the  Chris- 
tians did  not  venture  to  violate  it.  The  form  of  some 
of  the  Syrian  edifices  allowed  their  transformation  into 
Christian  churches ;  they  were  enclosed,  and  made  to 
admit  sufficient  light  for  the  services  of  the  church. 
A  temple  at  Damascus,  and  another  at  Heliopolis  or 
Baalbec,^  were  consecrated  to  the  Christian  worship. 
Marcellus  of  Apamea  was  the  martyr  in  tliis  holy  war- 
fare. He  had  signalized  himself  by  the  destruction  of 
the  temples  in  his  own  city,  particularly  that  of  Jupi- 
ter, whose  solid  foundations  defied  the  artificers  and 
soldiery  employed  in  tlie  work  of  demolition,  and  re- 
quired the  aid  of  miracle  to  undermine  them.  But,  on 
an  expedition  into  the  district  of  Apamea,  called  the 
Aulon,  the  rude  inhabitants  rose  in  defence  of  their 
sacred  edifice,  seized  Marcellns,  and  burned  him  alive. 
The  synod  of  the  province  refused  to  revenge  on  his 
barbarous  enemies  a  death  so  happy  for  Marcellus  and 
so  glorious  for  his  family .^ 

The  work  of  demolition  was  not  long  content  with 
these  less  famous  edifices,  these  outworks  of  Paganism ; 
it  aspired  to  attack  its  strongest  citadels,  and,  by  the 
public  destruction  of  one  of  the  most  celebrated  temples 
in  the  world,  to  announce  that  Polytheism  had  for 
ever  lost  its  hold  upon  the  minds  of  men.^ 

It  was  considered  the  highest  praise  of  the  magnifi- 

A  If  this  (as  indeed  is  not  likely)  was  the  vast  Temple  of  the  Sun,  the  work 
of  successive  ages,  it  is  probable  that  a  Christian  church  was  enclosed  in  some 
part  of  its  precincts.     The  sanctuary  was  usually  taken  for  this  purpose. 

2  Sozomen,  vii.  15.     Theodoret,  v.  21. 

8  Compare  throughout,  Histoire  de  la  Destruction  du  Paganisme  dans 
I'Empire  d'Orient,  par  Etienne  Chastel,  Paris,  1850.  This  work,  crowned  by 
the  Institute,  is  perhaps  not  quite  of  so  high  order  as  that  of  M.  Beugnot  on 
the  destruction  of  Paganism  in  the  West,  but  is  still  a  very  valuable  book. 


72  TEMPLE  OF  SERAPIS.  Hon  III. 

cent  temple  in  Edessa,  of  which  the  roof  was  of  re- 
Tempie  of      markablc  construction,  and  which  contained 

Serapis  at 

Alexandria,  m  its  sccrct  sanctuarj  certaui  very  celebrated 
statues  of  wrought  iron,  and  whose  fall  had  excited 
the  indignant  eloquence  of  Libanius,  to  compare  it  to 
the  Serapion  in  Alexandria.  The  Serapion,  at  that 
time,  appeared  secure  in  the  superstition,  which  con- 
nected its  inviolable  sanctity,  and  the  honor  of  its 
god,^  with  the  rise  and  fall  of  the  Nile,  with  the 
fertility  and  existence  of  Egypt,  and,  as  Egpyt  was 
the  granary  of  the  East,  the  existence  of  Constanti- 
nople. The  Pagans  had  little  apprehension  that  the 
Serapion  itself,  before  many  years,  would  be  levelled 
to  the  ground. 

The  temple  of  Serapis,  next  to  that  of  Jupiter  in 
AD  389  ^^^^  Capitol,  was  the  proudest  monument 
or  391.  Qf  Pagan  religious  architecture.^     Like  the 

more  celebrated  structures  of  the  East,  and  that  of 
Jerusalem  in  its  glory,  it  comprehended  within  its 
precincts  a  vast  mass  of  buildings,  of  which  the  temple 
itself  formed  the  centre.  It  was  built  on  an  artificial 
hill,  in  the  old  quarter  of  the  city,  called  Rhacotis. 
The  ascent  to  it  was  by  a  hundred  steps.  All  the 
substructure  was  vaulted  over;  and  in  these  dark 
chambers,  which  communicated  with  each  other,  were 
supposed  to  be  carried  on  the  most  fearful,  and,  to 
the  Christian,  abominable  mysteries.  All  around  the 
spacious  level  platform  were  the  habitations  of  the 
priests,  and  of  the  ascetics  dedicated  to  the  worship 
of  the  god.  Within  these  outworks  of  this  city  rather 
than  temple  was  a  square,  surrounded  on  all  sides 
with  a  magnificent  portico.     In  the  centre  arose  the 

1  Libanius  expresses  himself  to  this  effect. 

2  "  Post  CapitoHum,  quo  se  venerabilis  Roma  in  setemum  attollit,  nihil 
orbis  terrarum  ambitiosius  cernat."  —  Aniraian.  Marcell.  xxii.  16. 


Chap.  Vm.        STATUE  OF  SERAPIS.  73 

temple,  on  pillars  of  enormous  magnitude  and  beauti- 
fLil  proportion.  The  work  either  of  Alexander  him- 
self or  of  the  first  Ptolemy  aspired  to  unite  the 
colossal  grandeur  of  Egyptian  with  the  fine  harmony 
of  Grecian  art.  The  god  himself  was  the  especial 
object  of  adoration  throughout  the  whole  country,  and 
throughout  every  part  of  the  empire  into  which  the 
Egyptian  worship  had  penetrated,^  but  more  particu- 
larly in  Alexandria  ;  and  the  wise  policy  of  the  Ptole- 
mies had  blended  together,  under  tliis  pliant  and  all- 
embracing  religion,  the  different  races  of  their  subjects. 
Egyptian  and  Greek  met  as  worshippers  of  ^o^shipof 
Serapis.  The  Serapis  of  Egypt  was  said  to  ^^^^p^^- 
have  been  worshipped  for  ages  at  Sinope ;  he  was 
transported  from  that  city  with  great  pomp  and  splen- 
dor, to  be  re-incorporated,  as  it  were,  and  re-identified 
with  his  ancient  prototype.  While  the  Egyptians  wor- 
shipped in  Serapis  the  great  vivific  principle  of  the 
universe,  the  fecundating  Nile,  holding  the  Nilometer 
for  his  sceptre,  the  Lord  of  Amen-ti,  the  President  of 
the  regions  beyond  the  grave,  —  the  Greeks,  at  the 
same  time,  recognized  the  blended  attributes  of  their 
Dionysus,  Helios,  ^sculapius,  and  Hades.^ 

The  colossal  statue  of  Serapis  embodied  these  various 
attributes.^     It  filled  the  sanctuary:  its  out-    g^^t^g^f 
stretched   and  -all-embracing   arms    touclied    s^^^^pis. 
the  walls ;    the  right  the  one,  the  left  the  other.      It 
was  said  to  have  been  the  work  of  Sesostris ;    it  was 
made  of  all  the  metals  fused  together,  —  gold,  silver, 

1  In  Eg}^pt  alone  he  had  forty-two  temples ;  innumerable  others  in  every 
part  of  the  Roman  empire.  —  Aristid.  Orat.  in  Canop. 

2  This  appears  to  me  the  most  natural  interpretation  of  the  celebrated 
passage  in  Tacitus.  Compare  De  Guigniaut,  Le  Dieu  Serapis  et  son  Urigine, 
originally  written  as  a  note  for  Bournouf  s  Translation  of  Tacitus. 

3  The  statue  is  described  by  Macrobius,  Saturn,  i.  20;  Clemens  Alexan- 
drin.,  Exhortat.  ad  Gent.  i.  p.  42 ;  Kufinus,  E.  H.  xii.  23 


74  THE  FIRST  ATTACKS  Book  III. 

copper,  iron,  lead,  and  tin  ;  it  was  inlaid  with  all  kinds 
of  precious  stones;  the  whole  was  polished,  and  ap- 
peared of  an  azure  color.  The  measure  or  bushel, 
the  emblem  of  productiveness  or  plenty,  crowned  its 
head.  By  its  side  stood  the  symbolic  three-headed 
animal,  one  the  fore-part  of  a  lion,  one  of  a  dog,  one 
of  a  wolf.  In  this  the  Greeks  saw  the  type  of  their 
poetic  Cerberus.^  The  serpent,  the  symbol  of  eternity, 
wound  round  the  whole,  and  returned  resting  its  head 
on  the  hand  of  the  god. 

The  more  completely  the  adoration  of  Serapis  had 
absorbed  the  worship  of  the  whole  Egyptian  pantheon, 
the  more  eagerly  Christianity  desired  to  triumph  over 
the  representative  of  Polytheism.  However,  in  the 
time  of  Hadrian,  the  philosophic  party  may  have 
endeavored  to  blend  and  harmonize  the  two  faiths,^ 
they  stood  now  in  their  old  direct  and  irreconcilable 
opposition.  The  suppression  of  the  internal  feuds  be- 
tween the  opposite  parties  in  Alexandria,  enabled 
Christianity  to  direct  all  its  concentred  force  against 
The  first     Pagauism.     Theophilus,  the  archbishop,  was 

3jLtd<CKS  on  rt-iTT  T»»  • 

Paganism,  a  mau  01  bolducss  and  activity,  eager  to  seize 
and  skilful  to  avail  himself  of  every  opportunity  to 
inflame  the  popular  mind  against  the  Heathens.  A 
priest  of  Serapis  was  accused  and  convicted  of  prac- 
tising those  licentious  designs  against  the  virtue  of 
the  female  worshippers,  so  frequently  attributed  to  the 
priesthood  of  the  Eastern  religions.  The  noblest  and 
most  beautiful  women  were  persuaded  to  submit  to 
the  embraces  of  the  god,  whose  place,  under  the 
favorable  darkness  caused  by  the  sudden  extinction 

1  According  to  the  interpretation  of  Macrobius,  the  three  heads  represented 
the  past,  the  present,  and  the  future:  the  rapacious  wolf,  the  past;  the  cen- 
tral lion,  the  intennodiate  present;  the  fawTiing  dog,  the  hopeful  future. 

2  See  the  Letter  of  Hadrian,  vol.  ii.  p.  108. 


CHAP.Vni.  ON  PAG.VNISM.  75 

of  the  lamps  in  the  temple,  was  filled  by  the  priest. 
These  inauspicious  rumors  prepared  the  inevitable 
collision.  A  neglected  temple  of  Osiris  or  Dionysus 
had  been  granted  by  Constantius  to  the  Arians  of 
Alexandria.  Theophilus  obtained  from  the  emperor 
a  grant  of  the  vacant  site  for  a  new  church,  to  ac- 
commodate  the  increasing  numbers  of  the  Catholic 
Christians.  On  digging  the  foundation,  there  were 
discovered  many  of  the  obscene  symbols,  used  in  the 
Bacchic  or  Osirian  mysteries.  Theophilus,  with  more 
regard  to  the  success  of  his  cause  than  to  decency, 
exposed  these  ludicrous  or  disgusting  objects  in  the 
public  market  place,  to  the  contempt  and  abhorrence 
of  the  people.  The  Pagans,  indignant  at  this  treat- 
ment of  their  sacred  symbols,  and  maddened  by  the 
scorn  and  ridicule  of  the  Christians,  took  up  arms. 
The  streets  ran  with  blood ;  and  many  Christians  who 
fell  in  this  tumultuous  fray  received  the  honors  of 
martyrdom.  A  philosopher,  named  Olym-  oiympusthe 
pus,  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  the  Pagan  p^ii^^op^ier. 
party.  Olympus  had  foreseen  and  predicted  the  ruin 
of  the  external  worship  of  Polytheism.  He  had 
endeavored  to  implant  a  profound  feeling  in  the  hearts 
of  the  Pagans  which  might  survive  the  destruction  of 
their  ordinary  objects  of  worship.  "  The  statues  of 
the  gods  are  but  perishable  and  material  images :  the 
eternal  intelligences,  which  dwelt  within  them,  have 
withdrawn  to  the  heavens."  ^  Yet  Olympus  hoped, 
and  at  first  with  his  impassioned  eloquence  succeeded, 
in  rousing  his  Pagan  compatriots  to  a  bold  defiance 
of  the  public  authorities  in  support  of  their  religion. 

1  "Tlrjv  (pdapT^v  kqI  IvSaX/iaTa  Xeyuv  elvat  to,  dydlfxaTa,  Kot  dtd.  tovto 
h^aviG^bv  vTzofiEVSLV  6vvd[j.£tg  6e  rivag  kvoLKrjaai  avrolg,  Kal  elg  ovpavbv 
drroTf-yvai. —  Sozom.,  H.  E.  vii.  15. 


76  FLIGHT  OF  OLYMPUS.  Book  111. 

Faction  and  rivalry  supplied  what  was  wanting  to 
faith ;  and  it  appeared  that  Paganism  would  likewise 
boast  its  army  of  martyrs, — -martyrs,  not  indeed 
through  patient  submission  to  the  persecutor,  but  in 
heroic  despair  perishing  with  their  gods. 

Tiie  Pagans  at  first  were  the  aggressors  ;  they  sallied 
War  in  the  ^^oui  their  fortrcss,  the  Serapion,  seized  the 
city.  unhappy  Christians  whom  they  met,  forced 

them  to  sacrifice  on  their  altar,  or  slew  them  upon  it, 
or  threw  them  into  the  deep  trench  defiled  with  the 
blood  and  offal  of  sacrifice.  In  vain  Evagrius,  the  Pre- 
fect of  Egypt,  and  Romanus,  the  commander  of  the 
troops,  appeared  before  the  gates  of  the  Temple,  re- 
monstrated with  the  garrison,  who  appeared  at  the 
windows,  against  their  barbarities,  and  menaced  them 
with  the  just  vengeance  of  the  law.  They  were  obliged 
to  withdraw,  baffled  and  disregarded,  and  to  await  the 
orders  of  the  emperor.  Olympus  exhorted  his  followers 
to  the  height  of  religious  heroism.  "  Having  made 
a  glorious  sacrifice  of  our  enemies,  let  us  immolate 
ourselves,  and  perish  with  our  gods."  But,  before  the 
Flight  of  i"escript  arrived,  Olympus  had  disappeared: 
Olympus.  i^Q  i^^^  stolen  out  of  the  Temple,  and  em- 
barked for  Italy.  The  Christian  writers  do  honor  to 
his  sagacity  or  to  his  prophetic  powers,  at  the  expense 
of  his  courage  and  fidelity  to  his  party.  In  the  dead  of 
night,  when  all  was  slumbering  around,  and  all  the 
gates  closed,  he  had  heard  the  Christian  Alleluia  peal- 
ing from  a  single  voice  through  the  silent  temple. 
He  acknowledged  the  sign  or  the  omen,  and  antici- 
pated the  unfavorable  sentence  of  the  emperor,  the 
fate  of  his  faction  and  of  his  gods. 

The  eastern  Pagans,  it  should  seem,  were  little 
acquainted   with   the    real    character    of  Theodosius. 


CHAP.Vin.  RESCKIPT   OF  THEODOSIUS.  77 

When  the  rescript  arrived,  they  laid  down  their  arms, 
and  assembled  in  peaceful  array  before  the  temple,  as 
if  they  expected  the  sentence  of  the  emperor  in  their 
own  favor  .^  The  officer  began:  the  first  Rescript  of 
words  of  the  rescript  plainly  intimated  the  '^^^^odosius. 
abhorrence  of  Theodosius  against  idolatry.  Cries  of 
triumph  from  the  Christians  interrupted  the  proceed- 
ings ;  the  panic-stricken  Pagans,  abandoning  their 
temple  and  their  god,  silently  dispersed ;  they  sought 
out  the  most  secret  places  of  refuge ;  they  fled  their 
country.  Two  of  the  celebrated  pontiffs,  one  of  Amoun, 
one  of  "  the  Ape,"  retired  to  Constantinople,  where 
the  one,  Ammonius,  taught  in  a  school,  and  continued 
to  deplore  the  fall  of  Paganism ;  Helladius,  the  other, 
was  known  to  boast  the  part  he  had  taken  in  the  sedi- 
tion of  Alexandria,  in  which,  with  his  own  hand,  he 
had  slain  nine  Christians. ^ 

The  imperial  rescript  at  once  went  beyond  and  fell 
short  of  the  fears  of  the  Pagans.  It  disdained  to  exact 
vengeance  for  the  blood  of  the  Christian  martyrs,  who 
had  been  so  happy  as  to  lay  down  their  lives  for  their 
Redeemer ;  but  it  commanded  the  destruction  of  the 
idolatrous  temples :  it  confiscated  all  the  ornaments, 
and  ordered  the  statues  to  be  melted  or  broken  up  for 
the  benefit  of  the  poor. 

Theophilus  hastened  in  his  triumphant  zeal  to  exe- 
cute the  ordinance  of  the  emperor.     Marching,  with 

i  If  the  oration  of  Libanius,  exhorting  the  emperor  to  revenge  the  death 
of  Julian,  was  really  presented  to  Theodosius,  it  betrays  something  of  the 
same  ignorance.  He  seems  to  think  his  arguments  not  unlikely  to  meet  with 
success;  at  all  events,  he  appears  not  to  have  the  least  notion  that  Theodo- 
sius would  not  respect  the  memorj^  of  the  apostate. 

2  Socrat.,  Eccl.  Hist.  v.  16.  Helladius  is  mentioned  in  a  law  of  Theodo- 
sius the  younger,  as  a  celebrated  grammarian  elevated  to  certain  honors. 
This  law  is,  however,  dated  425 ;  at  least  five  and  thirty  years  after  this  trans- 
action. 


78  STATUE  OF  SERAPIS.         Book  III. 

the  prefect  at  the  head  of  the  military,  the  invaders 
ascended  the  steps  to  the  temple  of  Serapis.  They 
The  temple  survcycd  thc  vacant  chambers  of  the  priests 
assailed.  g^j-^^j  ^|jq  ascctlcs ;  they  paused  to  pillage  the 
library ;  ^  they  entered  the  deserted  sanctuary ;  they 
stood  in  the  presence  of  the  god.  The  sight  of  this 
colossal  image,  for  centuries  an  object  of 
worship,  struck  awe  to  the  hearts  of  the 
Christians  themselves.  They  stood  silent,  inactive, 
trembling.  The  archbishop  alone  maintained  his 
courage:  he  commanded  a  soldier  to  proceed  to  the 
assault.  The  soldier  struck  the  statue  with  his  hatchet 
on  the  knee.  The  blow  echoed  through  the  breathless 
hall,  but  no  sound  or  sign  of  divine  vengeance  ensued  ; 
the  roof  of  the  temple  fell  not  to  crush  the  sacrile- 
gious assailant  nor  did  the  pavement  heave  and  quake 
beneath  his  feet.  The  emboldened  soldier  climbed  up 
to  the  head  and  struck  it  off;  it  rolled  upon  the  ground. 
Serapis  gave  no  sign  of  life,  but  a  large  colony  of  rats, 
disturbed  in  their  peaceful  abode,  ran  about  on  all 
sides.  The  passions  of  the  multitude  are  always  in 
extremes.  From  breathless  awe  they  passed  at  once 
to  ungovernable  mirth.  The  work  of  destruction  went 
on  amid  peals  of  laughter,  coarse  jests,  and  shouts  of 
acclamation ;  and,  as  the  fragments  of  the  huge  body 
of  Serapis  were  dragged  through  the  streets,  the 
Pagans,  with  that  revulsion  of  feeling  common  to  the 
superstitious  populace,  joined  in  the  insult  and  mock- 
ery against  their  unresisting  and  self-abandoned  god.^ 

1  "Nos  vidimus  armaria  librorum;  quibus  direptis,  exinanita  ea  a  nostris 
hominibus,  nostris  temporibus  memorant."  —  Oros.  vi.  15. 

2  They  were  said  to  have  discovered  several  of  the  tricks  by  which  the 
priests  of  Serapis  imposed  on  the  credulity  of  their  worshippers.  An  aper- 
ture of  the  wall  was  so  contrived,  that  the  light  of  the  sun,  at  a  particular 
time,  fell  ou  the  face  of  Serapis.    The  sun  was  then  tliought  to  visit  Serapis; 


Chap.  VIII.  DEMOLITION  OF   THE  TEMPLE.  79 

The  solid  walls  and  deep  foundations  of  the  Temple 
offered  more  unsurmountable  resistance  to  the  baffled 
zeal  of  the  Christians  ;  the  work  of  demolition  pro- 
ceeded but  slowly  with  the  massive  architecture  ;  ^  and, 
some  time  after,  a  church  was  erected  in  the  precincts, 
to  look  down  upon  the  ruins  of  idolatry,  which  still 
frowned  in  desolate  grandeur  upon  their  conquerors.^ 

Yet  the  Christians,  even  after  their  complete  tri- 
umph, were  not  without  some  lingering  terrors ;  the 
Pagans,  not  without  hopes  that  a  fearful  vengeance 
would  be  exacted  from  the  land  for  this  sacrilegious 
extirpation  of  their  ancient  deities.  Serapis  was  either 
the  Nile,  or  the  deity  who  presided  over  the  periodical 
inundations  of  the  river.  The  Mlometer,  which  meas- 
ured the  rise  of  the  waters,  was  kept  in  the  temple. 
Would  the  indignant  river  refuse  its  fertilizing  mois- 
ture ;  keep  sullenly  within  its  banks,  and  leave  tlie 
ungrateful  land  blasted  with  perpetual  drought  and 
barrenness  ?  As  the  time  of  the  inundation  approached, 
all  Egypt  was  in  a  state  of  tremblijig  suspense.  Long 
beyond  the  accustomed  day  the  waters  remained  at 
their  usual  level ;  there  was  no  sign  of  overflowing. 
The  people  began  to  murmur ;  the  murmurs  swelled 
into  indignant  remonstrances  ;  the  usual  rites  and  sac- 
rifices were  demanded  from  the  reluctant  prefect,  who 
despatched  a  hasty  messenger  to  the  emperor  for  in- 

and  at  the  moment  of  their  meeting,  the  flashing  light  threw  a  smile  on  the 
lips  of  the  deity.  There  is  another  story  of  a  magnet  on  the  roof,  which,  as 
m  the  fable  about  Mohammed's  coffin,  raised  either  a  small  statue  of  the 
deity,  or  the  sun  in  a  car  with  four  horses,  to  the  roof,  and  there  held  it  sus- 
pended. A  Christian  withdrew  the  magnet,  the  car  fell,  and  was  dashed  to 
pieces  on  the  pavement. 

1  Compare  Eunap.,  Vit.  ^desii,  p.  44,  edit.  Boissonade. 

2  The  Christians  rejoiced  in  discovering  the  cross  in  vai-ious  parts  of  the 
building ;  they  were  inclined  to  suppose  it  miraculous  or  prophetic  of  their 
triumph.  But,  in  fact,  the  crux  ansata  is  a  common  hieroglyphic,  a  symjjol 
of  life. 


80  WAR  AGAINST   THE  TEMPLES.  Book  III. 

structioiis.  There  was  every  appearance  of  a  general 
insurrection ;  the  Pagans  triumphed  in  their  turn : 
but  before  the  answer  of  the  emperor  arrived,  which 
replied,  in  uncompromising  faith,  "  that,  if  the  inun- 
dation of  the  river  could  only  be  obtained  by  magic 
and  impious  rites,  let  it  remain  dry ;  the  fertility  of 
Egypt  must  not  be  purchased  by  an  act  of  infidelity  to 
God"i  —  suddenly,  the  waters  began  to  swell,  an  in- 
undation more  full  and  extensive  than  usual  spread 
over  the  land,  and  the  versatile  Pagans  had  now  no 
course  but  to  join  again  with  the  Christians  in  mock- 
eries against  the  impotence  of  their  gods. 

But  Christianity  was  not  content  with  the  demolition 
of  the  Serapion ;  its  predominance  throughout  Egypt 
may  be  estimated  by  the  bitter  complaint  of  the  Pagan 
writer :  "  Whoever  wore  a  black  dress  (the  monks  are 
designated  by  this  description)  was  invested  in  tyran- 
nical power;  philosophy  and  piety  to  the  gods  were 
compelled  to  retire  into  secret  places,  and  to  dwell  in 
contented  poverty  and  dignified  meanness  of  appear- 
ance. The  temples  were  turned  into  tombs  for  the 
adoration  of  the  bones  of  the  basest  and  most  depraved 
of  men  who  had  suffered  the  penalty  of  tlie  law,  whom 
they  made  their  gods."  ^  Such  was  the  light  in  which 
the  martyr-worship  of  the  Christians  appeared  to  the 
Pagans. 

The  demolition  of  the  Serapion  was  a  penalty  in- 
flicted on  the  Pagans  of  Alexandria  for  their  sedition 
and  sanguinary  violence ;  but  the  example  was  too 
encouraging,  the  hope  of  impunity  under  the  present 

1  Improbable  as  it  may  seem,  that  such  an  answer  should  be  given  by  a 
statesman  like  Theodosius,  yet  it  is  strongly  characteristic  of  the  times.  The 
emperor  neither  denies  the  power  of  the  malignant  demons  worshipped  by 
the  idolaters,  nor  the  efficacy  of  enchantments,  to  obtain  their  favor  and  to 
force  from  them  the  retarded  overflow  of  the  river. 

2  Eunap.,  Vit.  ^Edesii,  loc.  cit. 


Chap.  VIII.  WAR  AGAINST  THE  TEIUPLES.  81 

government  too  confident,  not  to  spread  through  other 
cities  of  Egypt.  It  moved  on  to  Canopus,  where  the 
principle  of  humidity  was  worshipped  in  the  form  of  a 
vase,  with  a  human  head.  Theophilus,  who  considered 
Canopus  within  his  diocese,  marched  at  the  head  of 
his  triumphant  party,  demolished  the  temples,  abol- 
ished the  rites,  which  were  distinguished  for  their 
dissolute  license,  and  established  monasteries  in  the 
place.  Canopus,  from  a  city  of  revel  and  debauchery, 
became  a  city  of  monks. ^ 

The  persecution  extended  throughout  Egypt ;  but 
the  vast  buildings  which  even  now  subsist,  the  success- 
ive works  of  the  Pharaohs,  the  Ptolemies,  and  the 
Roman  emperors,  having  triumphed  alike  over  time, 
Christianity,  and  Mohammedanism,  show  either  some 
reverent  reluctance  to  deprive  the  country  of  its  most 
magnificent  ornaments,  or  the  inefficiency  of  the  in- 
struments which  they  employed  in  the  work  of  devas- 
tation. For  once  it  was  less  easy  for  men  to  destroy 
than  to  preserve  ;  the  power  of  demolition  was  rebuked 
before  the  strength  and  solidity  of  these  erections  of 
primeval  art. 

The  war,  as  we  have  seen,  raged  with  the  same  par- 
tial and  imperfect  success  in  Syria  ;  with  less,  probably, 
in  Asia  Minor ;  least  of  all  in  Greece.  The  demoli- 
tion was  nowhere  general  or  systematic.  Wherever 
monastic  Christianity  was  completely  predominant, 
there  emulous  zeal  excited  the  laity  to  these  aggres- 
sions on  Paganism.  But  in  Greece  the  noblest  build- 
ings of  antiquity,  at  Olympia,  Eleusis,  Athens,^  show 

1  The  Christians  laughed  at  Canopus  being  called  "  the  conqueror  of  the 
gods."  The  origin  of  this  name  was,  that  the  principle  of  fire,  the  god  of 
the  Chaldeans,  had  been  extinguished  by  the  water  within  the  statue  of 
Canopus,  the  principle  of  humidity. 

2  The  Parthenon,  it  is  well  known,  was  entire,  till  towards  the  close  of  the 


82  PAGANISM  AT  ROME.  Book  III. 

in  their  decay  the  slower  process  of  neglect  and  time, 
of  accident  and  the  gradual  encroachment  of  later 
barbarism,  rather  than  the  iconoclastic  destructive- 
ness  of  early  religious  zeal.^ 

In  the  West,  the  task  of  St.  Martin  of  Tours,  the 
great  extirpator  of  idolatry  in  Gaul,  was  compara- 
tively easy ;  and  his  achievements  by  no  means  so 
much  to  be  lamented  as  those  of  the  destroyers  of  the 
purer  models  of  architecture  in  the  Bast.  The  life  of 
this  saint  by  Sulpicius,  in  which  the  comparatively 
polished  and  classical  style  singularly  contrasts  with 
the  strange  and  legendary  incidents  which  it  relates, 
describes  St.  Martin  as  making  regular  campaigns  into 
all  the  region,  destroying,  wherever  he  could,  the 
shrines  and  temples  of  the  Heathen,  and  replacing  them 
by  churches  and  monasteries.  So  completely  was  his 
excited  imagination  full  of  his  work,  that  he  declared 
that  Satan  often  assumed  the  visible  form  of  Jove,  of 
Mercury,  of  Venus,  or  of  Minerva,  to  divert  him,  no 
doubt,  from  his  holy  design,  and  to  protect  their  trem- 
bling fanes. 2 

But  the  power  and  the  majesty  of  Paganism  were 
Paganism  Still  conccntrcd  at  Rome ;  the  deities  of  the 
atKome.       ancicut  faith  found  their  last  refuge  in  the 

sixteenth  century.  Its  roof  was  destroyed  during  the  siege  by  the  Venetians. 
See  Spon.  and  Wheler's  Travels. 

1  The  council  of  Illiberis  refused  the  honors  of  martyrdom  to  those  who 
were  killed  while  breaking  idols.  —  Can.  Ix. 

The  invasion  of  the  Goths  (Eunapius  accuses  the  black  monks  of  having 
betrayed  Thermopylae  to  them)  carried  devastation  into  Greece  and  Pelopon- 
nesus. These  newly  converted  barbarians  had  no  feeling  for  art.  They 
burned  Corinth,  Amyclae,  Lacedfemon,  Olympia  (from  that  time  the  games 
ceased),  with  all  their  glorious  temples  and  noble  statues.  Zosimus  asserts 
that  Minerva  preserved  Athens.  Her  apparition  appalled  Alaric  But  Ceres 
did  not  protect  Eleusis.  There  was  a  fi-ightful  massacre  of  the  Hierophants 
among  the  ruins  of  the  temple.  (Eunapius,  in  be,  Los.  v.  6.)  Compare 
Chastel,  p.  215.  Falmerayer,  Geschichte  der  Morea,  136. 
2    Sulpic.  Sever.,  Vit.  B.  Martini,  p.  469. 


Chap.  VIII.  PAGANISM  AT  ROME.  83 

capital  of  the  empire.  To  the  stranger,  Rome  still 
offered  the  appearance  of  a  Pagan  city ;  it  contained 
one  hundred  and  fifty-two  temples,  and  one  hundred 
and  eighty  smaller  chapels  or  shrines,  still  sacred  to 
their  tutelary  God,  and  used  for  public  worship.^ 
Christianity  had  neither  ventured  to  usurp  those  few 
buildings  which  might  be  converted  to  her  use,  still 
less  had  she  the  power  to  destroy  them.  The  religious 
edifices  were  under  the  protection  of  the  prefect  of 
the  city,  and  the  prefect  was  usually  a  Pagan ;  at  all 
events,  he  would  not  permit  any  breach  of  the  public 
peace,  or  violation  of  public  property.  Above  all 
still  towered  the  capitol,  in  its  unassailed  and  awful 
majesty,  with  its  fifty  temples  or  shrines,  bearing  the 
most  sacred  names  in  the  religious  and  ci^dl  annals  of 
Rome, — those  of  Jove,  of  Mars,  of  Janus,  of  Romulus, 
of  Caesar,  of  Victory.  Some  years  after  the  accession 
of  Theodosius  to  the  Eastern  empire,  the  sacrifices 
were  still  performed  as  national  rites  at  the  public 
cost ;  the  pontiffs  made  their  offerings  in  the  name  of 
the  whole  liuman  race.  The  Pagan  orator  ventures 
to  assert  that  the  emperor  dared  not  to  endanger  the 
safety  of  the  empire  by  their  abolition. ^  The  emperor 
still  bore  the  title  and  insignia  of  the  supreme  pontiff; 
the  consuls,  before  they  entered  upon  their  functions, 
ascended  the  capitol ;  the  religious  processions  passed 
along  the  crowded  streets  ;  and  the  people  thronged 
to  the  festivals  and  theatres,  which  still  formed  part 
of  the  Pagan  worship. 

1  See  the  Descriptiones  Urbis,  which  bear  the  names  of  Publicus  Victor, 
and  Sextus  Rufus  Festus.  These  works  could  not  have  been  written  before 
or  long  after  the  reign  of  Valentinian.  Compare  Beugnot,  Histoire  de  la  De- 
struction du  Paganisme  en  Occident.  M.  Beugnot  has  made  out,  on  more  or 
less  satisfactory  evidence,  a  list  of  the  deities  still  worshipped  in  Italy.  — 
t.  i.  I.  viii.  c.  9.  St.  Augustin,  when  yoimg,  was  present  at  the  rites  of 
Cybele,  about  A.D.  374. 

2  Liban.  pro  Templis. 


84  GRATIAN  — VALENTINIAN— THEODOSIUS.     Book  III. 

But  the  edifice  had  begun  to  tremble  to  its  founda- 
Gratian,  tioiis.  The  emperor  had  ceased  to  reside 
TE^^Si.  at  Rome  ;  the  mind  of  Theodosius,  as  after- 
II.,  A.D.  375.  wards  that  of  Gratian,  and  that  of  the 
A.D.  879.  '  younger  Valentinian,  was  free  from  those 
early  inculcated  and  daily  renewed  impressions  of 
the  majesty  of  the  ancient  Paganism  which  still  en- 
thralled the  minds  of  the  Roman  aristocracy.  Of  that 
aristocracy,  the  flower  and  the  pride  was  Yettius 
Agorius  Prsetextatus.^  In  him  the  wisdom  of  Pagan 
philosophy  blended  with  the  serious  piety  of  Pagan 
religion :  he  lived  to  witness  the  commencement  of 
the  last  fatal  change  which  he  had  no  power  to  avert ; 
he  died,  and  his  death  was  deplored  as  a  public 
calamity,  in  time  to  escape  the  final  extinction,  or 
rather  degradation,  of  Paganism.  Only  eight  years 
before  the  fatal  accession  of  Gratian,  and 
the  year  of  his  own  death,  he  had  publicly 
consecrated  twelve  statues  in  the  capitol,  with  all 
becoming  splendor,  to  the  Dii  curantes,  the  great 
guardian  deities  of  Rome.^  It  was  not  only  the 
ancient  religion  of  Rome  which  still  maintained  some 
part  of  its  dignity,  all  the  other  religions  of  the  em- 
pire, which  still  publicly  celebrated  their  rites,  and 
retained  their  temples  in  the  metropolis,  concentred 
all  their  honors  on  Prsetextatus,  and  took  refuge,  as 
it  were,  under  the  protection  of  his  blameless  and 
venerable  name.  His  titles  in  an  extant  inscription 
announce  him  as  having  attained,  besides  the  count- 
less honors  of  Roman  civil  and  religious  dignity,  the 

1  See  on  Prsetextatus,  Macrob.  Saturn,  i.  2.  Symmachi  Epistolae,  i. 
40,  43,  45 ;  ii.  7,  34,  36,  53,  59.  —  Hieronym.  Epistolae,  xxiii. 

2  This  appears  from  an  inscription  recently  discovered  (A.D.  1835),  and 
published  in  the  Bulletino  of  the  Archaeological  Society  of  Rome.  Compare 
Bunsen,  Roms  Beschreibung,  vol.  iii.  p.  9. 


'     A.D.  38t. 


Chap.  VIII.  PR^TEXTATUS.  85 

highest  rank  in  the  Eleusinian,  Phrygian,  Syrian,  and 
Mithriac  mysteries.^  His  wife  boasted  the  same  re- 
ligious titles ;  she  was  the  priestess  of  the  same 
mysteries,  with  the  addition  of  some  peculiar  to  the 
female  sex.^  She  celebrated  the  funeral, 
even  the  apotheosis,  of  her  noble  husband 
with  the  utmost  pomp :  he  was  the  last  Pagan,  proba- 
bly, who  received  the  honors  of  deification.^  All  Rome 
crowded,  in  sorrow  and  profound  reverence,  to  the 
ceremony.  In  the  language  of  the  vehement  Jerome 
there  is  a  singular  mixture  of  enforced  respect  and  of 
aversion ;  he  describes  (to  moralize  at  the  awful 
change)  and  contrasts  with  his  funeral  the  former  tri- 
umphant ascent  of  tlie  capitol  by  Preetextatus  amid 
the  acclamations  of  the  whole  city ;  he  admits  the 
popularity  of  his  life,  but  condemns  him,  without 
remorse,  to  eternal  misery.* 

1  "  Augur,  Pontifex  Vestse,  Pontifex  Solis,  Quindeceravir,  Curialis  Hercu- 
lis,  sacratus  Libero  et  Eleusiniis,  Hierophanta,  Neocorus,  Tauroboliatus,  Pater 
Patrum."  —  Gruter,  p.  1102,  No.  2. 

2  "  Sacratie  apud  Eleusinam  Deo  Baccho,  Cereri,  et  Corae,  apud  Lemam, 
Deo  Libero,  et  Cereri,  et  Corje,  sacratte  apud  jEginam  Deabus ;  Taurobolitae, 
Isiacse,  Hierophantite  Dete  Hecatae,  sacratfe  Deae  Cereris."  —  Gruter,  309. 

8  Read  the  two  beautiful  poems,  one  a  short  one  addressed  by  Vettius  Ago- 
rius  Prsetextatus  to  his  wife,  Aconia  Fabia  Paulina;  the  other,  longer,  hy 
Paulina  to  her  husband.    I  subjoin  some  lines  from  that  of  Paulina:  — 

Tu  me,  marite,  disciplinarum  bono 

Puram  ac  pudicam  sorte  mortis  eximens, 

In  templa  ducis  ac  famulam  divis  dicas. 

Te  teste  cunctis  imbuor  mysteriis, 

Tu  Dindymeaes  Atteosque  antistitem 

Teletis  honoras  taureis  consors  plus, 

Hecates  ministram  trina  secreta  edoces, 

Cererisque  Graiae  tu  sacris  dignari  paras. 

Te  propter  omnes  me  beatam,  me  piam 

Celebrant,  quod  ipse  me  bonam  disseminas 

Totum  per  orbem.     Ignota  noscor  omnibus, 

Nam  te  marito  cui  placere  non  queam. 

Exempla  de  me  Romulae  matres  petunt. 

Sobolemque  pulchram,  si  tuae  similis,  putant 

Optant  probantque  nunc  viri  nunc  foeminse 

Apud  Meyer  Anthologia  Latina,  ii.  128 
**  O  quanta  rerum  mutatio !    Ille  quem  ante  paucos  dies  dignitatum  om« 


86  GRATIAN  — AUGUSTUS.  Bock  III. 

Up  to  the  accession  of  Gratian,  the  Christian  empe- 

A.D.  367.       I'or  had  assumed,  as  a  matter  of  course,  the 

Augustus,      supremacy  over  the  religion,  as  well  as  the 

A.D.  3/8.       state,    of   Rome.      He    had   been    formally 

arrayed  in  the  robes  of  the  sovereign  pontiff.     For  the 

Gratian  re-  first  fcw  vcars  of  liis  rciffu,  Gratian  main- 
fuses  the  .  "^  °    ' 

pontificate,  tamcd  tlic  inaggrcssive  policy  of  his  father 
Yalentinian.^  But  the  masculine  mind  of  Ambrose 
obtained,  and  indeed  had  deserved  by  his  public 
services,  the  supremacy  over  the  feeble  youth ;  and 
the  influence  of  Ambrose  began  to  reveal  itself  in  a 
succession  of  acts,  which  plainly  showed  that  the  fate 
of  Paganism  drew  near.  When  Gratian  was  in  Gaul, 
the  senate  of  Rome  remembered  that  he  had  not  been 
officially  arrayed  in  the  dignity  of  the  supreme  pontifi- 
cate. A  solemn  deputation  from  Rome  attended  to 
perform    the    customary   ceremonial.      The 

A  T)  38*^ 

idolatrous  honor  was  disdainfully  rejected. 
The  event  was  heard  in  Rome  with  consternation;  it 
was  the  first  overt  act  of  separation  between  the  reli- 
gious and  the  civil  power  of  the  empire .^  The  next 
hostile  measure  was  still  more  unexpected.  Notwith- 
standing the  manifest  authority  assumed  by  Christian- 
ity, and  by  one  of  the  Christian  prelates  best  qualified 
by  his  own  determined  character  to  wield  at  his  will 
the  weak  and  irresolute  Gratian  ;  notwithstanding  the 
long    ill-suppressed    murmurs,    and    now    bold    and 

nium  culmina  prsecedebant,  qui  quasi  de  subjectis  hostibus  triumpharet,  Capi- 
tolinas  ascendit  arces ;  quern  plausu  quodam  et  tripudio  populus  Romanus 
excepit,  ad  cujus  intentum  urbs  universa  commota  est,  —  nunc  desolatus  et 
nudus,  .  .  .  non  in  lacteo  coeli  palatio  ut  uxor  mentitur  infelix,  sed  in  sor- 
dentibus  tenebris  continetur."  —  Hieronym.  Epist.  xxiii.  vol.  i.  p.  135. 

1  M.  Beugnotconsiders  that  Gratian  was  tolerant  of  Paganism  from  his 
accession,  A.D.  367  to  382.  He  was  sixteen  when  he  ascended  the  throne, 
and  became  the -first  Augustus  on  the  death  of  Valens,  A.D.  378. 

2  Zosimus,  iv.  36.  The  date  of  this  transaction  is  conjectural.  The  opin- 
ion of  La  Bastie,  M^m.  des  Inscrip.  xv.  141,  is  followed. 


Chap.  VIII.  STATUE  OF  VICTORY.  87 

authoritative  remonstrances,  against  all  toleration,  and 
all  connivance  at  Heathen  idolatry,  —  it  might  have 
been  thought  that  any  other  victim  would  have  been 
chosen  from  the  synod  of  gods ;  that  all  other  statues 
would  have  been  thrown  prostrate,  all  other  worship 
proscribed,  before  that  of  Victory.  Con-  statue  of 
stantius,  though  he  had  calmly  surveyed  the  "^'^*°'"y- 
other  monuments  of  Roman  superstition,  admired 
their  majesty,  and  read  the  inscriptions  over  the 
porticos  of  the  temples,  had  nevertheless  given  orders 
for  the  removal  of  this  statue,  and  this  alone,  —  its 
removal,  it  may  be  suspected,  not  without  some  super- 
stitious reverence,  —  to  the  rival  capital.^  Victory  had 
been  restored  by  Julian  to  the  senate-house  at  Rome, 
where  she  had  so  long  presided  over  the  counsels  of 
the  conquering  republic  and  of  the  empire.  She  had 
maintained  her  place  during  the  reign  of  Valentinian. 
The  decree  that  the  statue  of  Victory  was  to  be  igno- 
miniously  dragged  from  its  pedestal  in  the  senate- 
house,  tliat  the  altar  was  to  be  removed,  and  the  act 
of  public  worship,  with  which  the  senate  had  for 
centuries   of    uninterrupted   prosperity   and 

AD  382 

glory  commenced  and  hallowed  its  proceed- 
ings, discontinued,  fell  like  a  thunderbolt  among  the 
partisans  of  the  ancient  worship.  Surprise  yielded  to 
indignation.  By  the  advice  of  Praetextatus,  a  solemn 
deputation  was  sent  to  remonstrate  with  the  emperor. 
The  Christian  party  in  the  senate  were  strong  enough 
to  forward,  through  the  bishop  Damasus,  a  counter- 
petition,  declaring  their  resolution  to  abstain  from 
attendance  in  the   senate   so   long   as   it   should   be 

1  Coustantius  (the  whole  account  of  this  transaction  is  vague  and  uncir- 
cumstantial),  acting  in  the  spirit  of  his  father,  who  collected  a  great  number 
of  the  best  statues  to  adorn  the  new  capital,  perhaps  inten'ded  to  transplant 
Victory  to  Constantinople. 


88  THE  VESTAL  VIRGINS.  Book  III. 

defiled  by  an  idolatrous  ceremonial.  Gratian  coldly- 
dismissed  the  deputation,  though  headed  by  the 
eloquent  Symmachus,  as  not  representing  the  unani- 
mous sentiments  of  the  senate.^ 

This  first  open  aggression  on  the  Paganism  of  Rome 
was  followed  by  a  law  which  confiscated  at  once  all  the 
property  of  the  temples,  and  swept  away  the  privileges 
and  immunities  of  the  priesthood.  The  fate  of  the 
Vestal  virgins  excited  the  strongest  commiseration. 
They  now  passed  unhonored  through  the  streets.  The 
violence  done  to  this  institution,  co-eval  with  Rome 
itself,  was  aggravated  by  the  bitter  mockery  of  the 
Christians  at  the  importance  attached  to  those  few  and 
rare  instances  of  chastity  by  the  Pagans.  They 
scoffed  at  the  small  number  of  the  sacred  virgins ;  at 
the  occasional  delinquencies  (for  it  is  singular  that 
almost  the  last  act  of  Pagan  pontifical  authority  was 
the  capital  punishment  of  an  unchaste  Yestaij) ;  the 
privilege  they  possessed  and  sometimes  claimed,  of 
marriage  after  a  certain  period  of  ser\dce,  when, 
according  to  the  severer  Christians,  such  unholy 
desires  should  have  been  long  extinct. ^  If  the  state 
is  to  reward  virginity  (said  the  vehement  Ambrose), 
the  claims  of  the  Christians  would  exhaust  the  treas- 
ury. 

1  It  is  very  singular  that,  even  at  this  very  time,  severe  laws  seem  to 
have  heen  necessary  to  punish  apostates  from  Christianity.  In  381,  Theo- 
dosius  deprived  such  persons  of  the  right  of  bequeathing  their  property. 
Similar  laws  Avere  passed  in  383  and  391  against  those  "  qui  ex  Christianis 
Pagani  facti  sunt;  qui  ad  Paganos  ritus  cultusque  migrarunt;  qui  venerabili 
religione  neglecta  ad  aras  et  templa  transierint."  —  Cod.  Theodos.  xvi.  7, 1, 
2,  4,  5. 

2  Prudentius,  though  he  wrote  later,  expresses  this  sentiment:  — 

Nubit  anus  veterana,  sacro  perfuncta  labore, 
Deserti?que  focis,  quibus  est  famulata  juventus, 
Transfert  invitas  ad  fulcra  jugalia  rugas, 
Discit  et  in  gelido  nova  nupta  calescere  lecto. 

Adv.  Symm.  lib.  ii. 


Chap.  VIH.  SYMMACHUS.  89 

By  this  confiscation  of  the  sacerdotal  property, 
which  had  hitherto  maintained  the  priesthood  in  opu- 
lence, the  temples  and  the  sacrificial  rights  in  splen- 
dor, the  Pagan  hierarchy  became  stipendiaries  of 
the  state,  the  immediate  step  to  their  total  dissolu 
tion.  The  public  funds  were  still  charged  with  a 
certain  expenditure  ^  for  the  maintenance  of  the  pub- 
lic ceremonies.  This  was  not  abrogated  till  after 
Theodosius  had  again  united  the  whole  empire  under 
his  conquering  sway,  and  shared  with  Christianity  the 
subjugated  world. 

In  the  interval,  Heathenism  made  perhaps  more 
than  one  desperate  though  feeble  struggle  for  the 
ascendency.  Gratian  was  murdered  in  the  year  383. 
Valentinian  II.  succeeded  to  the  sole  empire  of  the 
West.  The  celebrated  Symmachus  became  Prefect  of 
Rome.  Symmachus  commanded  the  respect,  and  even 
deserved  the  common  attachment,  of  all  his  country- 
men ;  he  ventured  (a  rare  example  in  those  days)  to 
interfere  between  the  tyranny  of  the  sovereign  and 
the  menaced  welfare  of  the  people.  An  uncorrupt 
magistrate,  he  deprecated  the  increasing  burdens  of 
unnecessary  taxes  which  weighed  down  the  people; 
he  dared  to  suggest  that  the  eager  petitions  for  oflQce 
should  be  at  once  rejected,  and  the  worthiest  chosen 
out  of  the  unpretending  multitude.  Symmachus  in- 
separably connected,  in  his  Pagan  patriotism,  the 
ancient  religion  with  the  welfare  of  Rome.  He 
mourned  in  bitter  humiliation  over  the  acts  of  Gra- 
tian,—  the  removal  of  the  statue  of  Victory,  the 
abrogation  of  the  immunities  of  the  Pagan  priesthood. 
He  hoped  to  obtain  from  the  justice,  or  perhaps  the 
fears,  of  the  young  Yalentinian,  that  which  had  been 

1  This  was  called  the  Annona. 


90  APOLOGY   OF  SYMMACHUS.  Book  III. 

refused  by  Gratian.  The  senate  met  under  his  author- 
ity ;  a  petition  was  drawn  up  and  presented  in  the 
name  of  that  venerable  body  to  the  emperor.  On  this 
composition  Symmachus  lavished  all  his  eloquence. 
His  oration  is  written  with  vigor,  with  dignity,  with 
elegance.  It  is  in  this  respect,  perhaps,  superior  to 
Apology  of  ^'1^®  reply  of  St.  Ambrose.^  But  in  tlie  fee- 
symmaciius.  ^^Q  aud  apologctlc  tone  we  perceive  at  once 
that  it  is  the  artful  defence  of  an  almost  hopeless 
cause  ;  it  is  cautious  to  timidity,  dexterous,  elaborately 
conciliatory,  moderate  from  fear  of  offending  rather 
than  from  tranquil  dignity.  Ambrose,  on  the  other 
hand,  writes  with  all  the  fervid  and  careless  energy 
of  one  confident  in  his  cause,  and  who  knows  that  he 
is  appealing  to  an  audience  already  pledged  by  their 
own  feelings  to  his  side ;  he  has  not  to  obviate  objec- 
tions, to  reconcile  difficulties,  to  sue  or  to  propitiate ; 
his  contemptuous  and  criminating  language  has  only 
to  inflame  zeal,  to  quicken  resentment  and  scorn.  He 
is  flowing  down  on  the  full  tide  of  human  passion,  and 
his  impulse  but  accelerates  and  strengthens  the  rapid 
current. 

The  personification  of  Rome,  in  the  address  of 
Symmachus,  is  a  bold  stroke  of  artificial  rhetoric, 
but  it  is  artificial ;  and  Rome  pleads  instead  of  com- 
manding ;  entreats  for  indulgence,  rather  than  men- 
aces for  neglect.  "  Most  excellent  princes,  fathers  of 
your  country,  respect  my  years,  and  permit  mc  still 

1  Heyne  has  expressed  himself  strongly  on  the  superiority  of  Symma- 
chus. "Argumentorum  delectu,  vi,  pondere,  aculeis,  non  minus  admirabilis 
ilia  est  quam  prudentia,  cautione,  ac  verecundia ;  quam  tanto  magis  sentias 
si  verbosam  et  inanem,  interdum  calumniosam  et  veteratoriam  declama- 
tionem  Ambrosii  compares.''  —  Censur.  ingen.  et  mor.  Q.  A.  Symmachi,  in 
Heyne  Opuscul. 

The  relative  position  of  the  parties  influenced,  no  doubt,  the  style,  and 
will,  perhaps,  the  judgment  of  posterity  on  the  merit,  of  the  compositions. 


Chap.  VIII.  REPLY   OF  AMBROSE.  91 

to  practise  the  religion  of  my  ancestors,  in  which  I 
have  grown  old.  Grant  me  but  the  libeity  of  living 
according  to  my  ancient  usage.  This  religion  has 
subdued  the  world  to  my  dominion ;  these  rites 
repelled  Hannibal  from  my  walls,  the  Gauls  from 
the  capitol.  Have  I  lived  thus  long,  to  be  rebuked  in 
my  old  age  for  my  religion  ?  It  is  too  late :  it  would 
be  discreditable  to  amend  in  my  old  age.  I  entreat 
but  peace  for  the  gods  of  Rome,  the  tutelary  gods  of 
our  country."  Rome  condescends  to  that  plea  which 
a  prosperous  religion  neither  uses  nor  admits,  but  to 
which  a  falling  faith  always  clings  with  desperate 
energy.  "  Heaven  is  above  us  all ;  we  cannot  all 
follow  the  same  path ;  there  are  many  ways  by  which 
we  arrive  at  the  great  secret.  But  we  presume  not 
to  contend :  we  are  humble  suppliants."  The  end  of 
the  third  century  had  witnessed  the  persecutions  of 
Diocletian:  the  fourth  had  not  elapsed  when  this  is 
the  language  of  Paganism,  uttered  in  her  strongest 
hold  by  the  most  earnest  and  eloquent  of  her  parti- 
sans. Symmachus  remonstrates  against  the  miserable 
economy  of  saving  the  maintenance  of  the  Vestal 
virgins  ;  the  disgrace  of  enriching  the  imperial  treasury 
by  such  gains ;  he  protests  against  the  confiscatioli  of 
all  legacies  bequeathed  to  them  by  the  piety  of  indi- 
viduals. "  Slaves  may  inherit :  the  Vestal  virgins 
alone,  and  the  ministers  of  religion,  are  precluded 
from  this  common  privilege."  The  orator  concludes 
by  appealing  to  the  deified  father  of  the  emperor,  who 
looks  down  with  sorrow  from  the  starry  citadel,  to  see 
that  toleration  violated  which  he  had  maintained  with 
willing  justice. 

But  Ambrose  was  at  hand  to  confront  the  eloquent 
Pagan,  and  to  prohibit  the  fatal  concession.     Far  dif- 


92  REPLY  OF  AMBROSE.  Book  III, 

ferent  is  the  tone  and  manner  of  the  Archbishop  of 
j-epiy  of  Milan.  He  asserts,  in  plain  terms,  the  unques- 
Ambrose.  ^JQi^^ble  obligation  of  a  Christian  sovereign 
to  permit  no  part  of  the  public  revenue  to  be  devoted 
to  the  maintenance  of  idolatry.  Their  Roman  ances- 
tors were  to  be  treated  with  reverence ;  but,  in  a 
question  of  religion,  they  were  to  consider  God  alone. 
He  who  advises  such  grants  as  those  demanded  by  the 
suppliants  is  guilty  of  sacrifice.  Gradually  he  rises 
to  still  more  imperious  language,  and  unveils  all  the 
terrors  of  the  sacerdotal  authority.  "  The  emperor 
who  shall  be  guilty  of  such  concessions  will  find  that 
the  bishops  will  neither  endure  nor  connive  at  his  sin. 
If  he  enters  a  church,  he  will  find  no  priest,  or  one 
who  will  defy  his  authority.  The  church  will  indig- 
nantly reject  the  gifts  of  him  who  has  shared  them 
with  Gentile  temples.  The  altar  disdains  the  offerings 
of  him  who  has  made  offerings  to  images.  It  is  writ- 
ten, '  Man  cannot  serve  two  masters.' "  Ambrose, 
emboldened,  as  it  were,  by  his  success,  ventures  in  his 
second  letter  to  treat  the  venerable  and  holy  traditions 
of  Roman  glory  with  contempt.  "  How  long  did 
Hannibal  insult  the  gods  of  Rome  ?  It  was  the  goose, 
and  tiot  the  deity,  that  saved  the  capitol.  Did  Jupiter 
speak  in  the  goose  ?  Where  were  the  gods  in  all  the 
defeats,  some  of  them  but  recent,  of  the  Pagan  empe- 
rors ?  Was  not  the  altar  of  Victory  then  standing  ?  " 
He  insults  the  number,  the  weaknesses,  the  marriages, 
of  the  Vestal  virgins.  "If  the  same  munificence 
were  shown  to  Christian  virgins,  the  beggared  treas- 
ury would  be  exhausted  by  the  claims."  "  Are  not 
the  baths,  the  porticos,  the  streets,  still  crowded  with 
images  ?  Must  they  still  keep  their  place  in  the  great 
council  of  the  empire  ?     You  compel  to  worship  if  you 


JHAP.  Vin.  ACCESSION  OF  EUGENIUS.  93 

restore  the  altar.  And  who  is  this  deity  ?  Victory 
is  a  gift,  and  not  a  power ;  she  depends  on  the 
courage  of  the  legions,  not  on  the  influence  of  the  re- 
ligion,—  a  mighty  deity,  who  is  bestowed  by  the  num- 
bers of  an  army,  or  the  doubtful  issue  of  a  battle  I  " 

Foiled  in  argument.  Paganism  vainly  grasped  at 
other  arms,  which  she  had  as  little  power  to  wield. 
On  the  murder  of  Valentinian,  Arbogastes  Murder  of 

1  /->!        1  T  T         .  Valentinian, 

the  Gaul,  whose  authority  over  the  troops  a.d.  sy:^ 
was  without  competitor,  hesitated  to  assume  the  purple, 
which  had  never  yet  been  polluted  by  a  barbarian. 
He  placed  Eugenius,  a  rhetorician,  on  the  throne. 
The  elevation  of  Eugenius  was  ati  act  of  military  vio- 
lence; but  the  Pagans  of  the  West  hailed  his  Accession  of 
accession  with  the  most  eager  joy  and  the  ^"seuius. 
fondest  hopes.  The  Christian  writers  denounce  the 
apostasy  of  Eugenius,  not  without  justice  if  Eugenius 
ever  professed  Christianity.^  Throughout  Italy  the 
temples  were  re-opened ;  the  smoke  of  sacrifice  as- 
cended from  all  quarters ;  the  entrails  of  victims  were 
explored  for  the  signs  of  victory.  The  frontiers  were 
guarded  by  all  the  terrors  of  the  old  religion.  The 
statue  of  Jupiter  the  Thunderer,  sanctified  by  magical 
rites  of  the  most  awful  significance,  and  placed  on' the 
fortifications  amid  the  Julian  Alps,  looked  defiance  on 
the  advance  of  the  Christian  emperor.  The  images  of 
the  gods  were  unrolled  on  the  banners,  and  Hercules 
was  borne  in  triumph  at  the  head  of  the  army.  Am- 
brose fled  from  Milan ;  for  the  soldiery  boasted  that 
they  would  stable  their  horses  in  the  churches,  and 
press  the  clergy  to  fill  their  legions. 

In  Rome,  Eugenius  consented,  without  reluctance, 

1  Compare  the  letter  of  Ambrose  to  Eugenius.    He  addresses  Eugenina 
apparently  as  a  Christian,  but  one  ii\  the  hands  of  more  powerful  Pagans. 


94  EDICT   OF   THEODOSIUS.  Boc  k  III. 

to  the  restoration  of  the  altar  of  Victory ;  but  he  had 
the  wisdom  to  foresee  the  danger  which  his  cause  might 
incur  by  the  resumption  of  the  temple  estates,  many  of 
which  had  been  granted  away  :  he  yielded  with  undis- 
guised unwillingness  to  the  irresistible  importunities 
of  Arbogastes  and  Flavianus. 

Wiiile  this  re-action  was  taking  place  in  the  West, 
perhaps  irritated  by  the  intelligence  of  this  formidable 
conspiracy  of  Paganism,  with  the  usurpation  of  the 
throne,  Theodosius  published  in  the  East  the  last  and 
most  peremptory  of  those  edicts  which,  gradually  ris- 
ing in  the  sternness  of  their  language,  proclaimed  the 
ancient  worship  a  treasonable  and  capital  crime.  In 
its  minute  and  searching  phrases,  this  statute  seemed 
eagerly  to  pursue  Paganism  to  its  most  secret  and 
private  lurking-places.  Thencefortli  no  man  of  any 
station,  rank,  or  dignity,  in  any  place  in  any  city,  was 
to  offer  an  innocent  victim  in  sacrifice  ;  the  more  harm- 
less worship  of  the  household  gods,  which  lingered, 
probably,  more  deeply  in  the  hearts  of  the  Pagans  than 
any  other  part  of  their  system,  was  equally  forbid- 
den,—  not  merely  the  smoke  of  victims,  but  even 
lamps,  incense,  and  garlands.  To  sacrifice,  or  to  con- 
sult the  entrails  of  victims,  was  constituted  higli 
treason,  and  thereby  a  capital  offence,  although  with 
no  treasonable  intention  of  calculating  the  days  of  the 
emperor.  It  was  a  crime  of  the  same  magnitude  to  in- 
fringe the  laws  of  nature,  to  pry  into  the  secrets  of 
futurity,  or  to  inquire  concerning  the  death  of  any  one. 
Whoever  permitted  any  Heathen  rite  —  hanging  a  tree 
with  chaplets,  or  raising  an  altar  of  turf —  forfeited 
the  estate  on  which  the  offence  was  committed.  Any 
house  profaned  with  the  smoke  of  incense  was  confis- 
cated to  the  imperial  exchequer.      Whoever  violated 


Chap.  VIIT.  EDICT   OF  THEODOSIUS.  95 

this  prohibition,  and  offered  sacrifice  either  in  a  pub- 
lic temple  or  on  the  estate  of  another,  was 

A.D  394 

amerced  in  a  fine  of  twenty-five  pounds  of  gold 
(a  thousand  pounds  of  our  money)  ;  and  whoever  con- 
nived at  the  offence  was  liable  to  the  same  fine :  the 
magistrate  who  neglected  to  enforce  it,  to  a  still  heav- 
ier penalty.^  This  law,  stern  and  intolerant  as  it  was, 
spoke,  no  doul)t,  the  dominant  sentiment  of  the  Chris- 
tian Avorld ;  ^  but  its  repetition  by  the  successors  of 
Theodosius,  and  the  employment  of  avowed  Pagans  in 
many  of  the  high  offices  of  the  state  and  army,  may 
permit  us  charitably  to  doubt  whether  the  exchequer 
was  much  enriched  by  the  forfeitures,  or  the  sword  of 
the  executioner  deeply  stained  with  the  blood  of  con- 
scientious Pagans.  Polytheism  boasted  no  martyrs ; 
and  we  may  still  hope,  that,  if  called  upon  to  carry  its 
own  decrees  into  effect,  its  native  clemency  —  though, 
unhappily.  Christian  bigotry  had  already  tasted  of 
heretical  blood  —  would  have  revolted  from  the  san- 
guinary deed,^  and  yet  have  seen  the  inconsistency  of 
these  acts  (which  it  justified  in  theory,  on  the  authority 
of  the  Old  Testament)  with  the  vital  principles  of  the 
Gospel. 

The  victory  of  Theodosius  in  the  West  dissipated  at 
once  the  vain  hopes  of  Paganism ;  the  pageant  van- 
ished away.      Rome  heard   of  the   triumph,  perhaps 

1  Cod.  Theotl.  xvi.  10,  12. 

2  Gibbon  has  qiioted  from  Le  Clerc  a  fearflil  sentence  of  St.  Augustine, 
addressed  to  the  Donatists.  "  Quis  nostrum,  quis  vestrum  non  laudat  leges 
ab  Imperatoribus  datas  adversus  sacrificia  Paganorum?  Et  cert^  longe  ibi 
poena  severior  constituta  est;  illius  quippe  impietatis  capitale  supplicium 
est."  —  Epist.  xciii.  But  passages  amiablj^  inconsistent  with  this  fierce  tone 
might  be  quoted  on  the  milder  side.  Compare  Editor's  note  on  Gibbon,  v. 
p.  114. 

3  "  Quis  eorum  comprohensus  est  in  sacrificio  (cum  his  legibus  ista  pro- 
hiberentur)  et  non  negavit."  —  Augustin,  in  Psalm  cxx.,  quoted  by  Gibbon 
from  Lardner. 


9b  EIST)  OF  WESTERN  PAGANISM.  Book  III 

witnessed  the  presence,  of  the  great  conqueror,  who, 
in  the  East,  had  ah^eady  countenanced  the  most  de 
struct! ve  attacks  against  the  temples  of  the  gods.  The 
Christian  poet  describes  a  solemn  debate  of  the  senate 
on  the  claims  of  Jupiter  and  of  Christ  to  the  adoration 
of  the  Roman  people.  According  to  his  account, 
Jupiter  was  outvoted  by  a  large  number  of  sutfrages ; 
the  decision  was  followed  by  a  general  desertion  of 
their  ancestral  deities  by  the  obsequious  minority ;  the 
old  hereditary  names,  the  Aanii  and  the  Probi,  the 
Anicii  and  Olybii,  the  Paulini  and  Bassi,  the  popular 
Gracchi,  six  hundred  families,  at  once  passed  over  to 
the  Christian  cause. ^  The  Pagan  historian  to  a  cer- 
tain degree  confirms  the  fact  of  the  deliberate  discus- 
sion, but  differs  as  to  the  result.  The  senate,  he  states, 
firmly,  but  respectfully,  adhered  to  their  ancient  dei- 
ties.^ But  the  last  argument  of  the  Pagan  advocates 
was  fatal  to  their  cause.  Theodosius  refused  any 
longer  to  assign  funds  from  the  public  revenue  to 
maintain  the  charge  of  the  idolatrous  worship.  The 
senate  remonstrated,  that,  if  they  ceased  to  be  sup- 
ported at  the  national  cost,  they  would  cease  to  be  na- 
tional rites.  This  argument  was  more  likely  to 
confirm  than  to  shake  the  determination  of  the  Chris- 
tian emperor.  From  this  time,  the  temples  were 
deserted  ;  the  priests  and  priestesses,  deprived  of  their 
maintenance,  were  scattered  abroad.  The  public  tem- 
ples still  stood,  nor  was  it  forbidden  to  worship  within 
their  walls  without  sacrifice  ;  the  private  and  family  or 
Gentile  deities  still  preserved  their  influence. 

^  Sexcentas  numerare  domos  de  sanguine  prisoo 
Nobilium  licet,  ad  Christi  signacula  versas, 
Turpis  ab  idoli  vasto  emersisse  profundo. 

Prud.  ad  Symmach. 
Frudentius  has  probably  amplified  some  considerable  desertion  of  the 
wavering  and  dubious  believers. 
2  Zosim.  Hist.  iv.  69. 


Chap.  VIII.  END   OF  WESTERN  PAGANISM.  97 

Theodosius  died  the  year  after  the  defeat  of  Eu- 
geniiis. 

We  pursue  to  its  close  the  history  of  Western  Pa- 
ganism, which  was  buried  at  last  in  the  ruins 
of  the  empire.  Gratian  had  dissevered  the 
supremacy  of  the  national  religion  from  the  imperial 
dignity ;  he  had  confiscated  the  property  of  the  tem- 
ples ;  Theodosius  had  refused  to  defray  the  expense  of 
public  sacrifices  from  the  public  funds.  Still,  however, 
the  outward  form  of  Paganism  remained.  Some  priest- 
hoods were  still  handed  down  in  regular  descent ;  the 
rites  of  various  deities,  even  of  Mythra  and  Cybele, 
were  celebrated  without  sacrifice,  or  with  sacrifice  fur- 
tively performed ;  the  corporation  of  the  haruspices 
was  not  abolished.  There  still  likewise  remained  a 
special  provision  for  certain  festivals  and  public  amuse- 
ments.^ The  expense  of  the  sacred  banquets  and  of 
the  games  was  defrayed  by  the  state ;  an  early  law 
of  Honorius  respected  the  common  enjoyments  of  the 
people. 2 

The  poem  of  Prudentius^  acknowledges  that  the 
enactments  of  Theodosius  had  been  far  from  altogether 
successful ;  *  his  bold  assertion  of  the  universal  adop- 
tion of  Christianity  by  the  whole  senate  is  in  some 
degree  contradicted  by  his  admission  that  the  old  pes- 
tilence of  idolatry  had  again  broken  out  in  Rome.^  It 
implies  that  the  restoration  of  the  statue  of  Victory 
had  again  been  urged,  and  by  the  indefatigable  Sym- 

1  It  was  called  the  vectigal  templorum. 

2  "  Communis  populi  laetitia." 

3  The  poem  of  Prudentius  is  by  no  means  a  recapitulation  of  the  argu 
ments  of  St.  Ambrose ;  it  is  original,  and  in  some  parts  very  vigorous. 

*  Inclitus  ergo  parens  patriae,  moderator  et  orbis, 

Nil  egit  prohibendo,  vagas  ne  pristinus  error 

Crederet  esse  Deum  nigrante  sub  aere  formaa. 
"  Sed  quoniam  renovata  lues  turbare  salutem 

Tentat  RomuUdum. 
VOL.  III.  7 


98  LAW  OF  HONORIUS.  Book  IU. 

machus,  on  the  sons  of  Theodosius.^  The  poem  was 
written  after  the  battle  of  Pollentia,  as  it  triumphantly 
appeals  to  the  glories  of  that  day  against  the  argument 
that  Rome  was  indebted  for  the  victories  of 
former  times  to  her  ancient  gods.  It  closes 
with  an  earnest  admonition  to  the  son  of  Theodosius 
to  fulfil  the  task  which  was  designedly  left  to  him  by 
the  piety  of  his  father ;  ^  to  suppress  at  once  the  Vestal 
virgins,  and,  above  all,  the  gladiatorial  shows,  which 
they  were  accustomed  to  countenance  by  their  pres- 
ence. 

In  the  year  408  came  forth  the  edict  which  aimed  at 
i^^  of  the  direct  and  complete  abolition  of  Paganism 
Honorius.  throughout  the  Western  empire.  The  whole 
of  this  reserved  provision  for  festivals  was  swept  away ; 
it  was  devoted  to  the  more  useful  purpose, — the  pay 
of  the  loyal  soldiery.^  The  same  edict  proceeded  to 
actual  \nolence,  to  invade  and  take  possession  of  the 
sanctuaries  of  religion.  All  images  were  to  be  thrown 
down ;  the  edifices,  now  useless  and  deserted,  to  be 
occupied  by  the  imperial  officers,  and  appropriated  to 
useful  purposes.*    The  Government,  wavering  between 

1  Armorum  dominos,  vemantes  flore  juventae, 
Inter  castra  patris  genitos,  sub  imagine  avita 
Eductos,  exempla  domi  congesta  tenentes, 
Orator  catus  instigat.  .  .  . 
Si  vobis  Tel  parta,  viri,  victoria  cordi  est, 
Vel  parienda  dehinc,  templum  Dea  yirgo  sacratxun 
Obtineat,  vobis  regnantibus. 
The  orator  catus  is  Symmachus;  the  parta  victoria,  that  of  Pollentia;  the 
Dea  virgo,  Victory. 

2  Quam  tibi  supplendam  Deus,  et  genitoris  arnica 
Servavit  pietas :  solus  ne  praemia  tantae 
Virtutis  caperet  "partem,  tibi,  nate  reservo," 
Dixit,  et  integrum  decus  intactumque  reliquit.  —  Sub  fin. 
8  *'  Expensis  devotissimorum  militum  profutura." 

4  Augustine  (though  not  entirely  consistent)  disapproved  of  the  forcible 
demolition  of  the  temples.  "  Let  us  first  extirpate  the  idolatry  of  the  hearts 
of  the  Heathen ;  and  they  will  either  themselves  invite  us,  or  anticipate  us  in 
the  execution  of  this  good  work."  —  Tom.  v.  p.  62. 


Chap.  Yin.  LAW  OF  HONORIUS.  99 

demolition  and  desecration,  devised  this  plan  for  the 
preservation  of  these  great  ornaments  of  the  cities, 
which  thus,  taken  under  the  protection  of  the  magis- 
tracy as  public  property,  were  secured  from  the  de- 
structive zeal  of  the  more  fanatical  Christians.  All 
sacrilegious  rites,  festivals,  and  ceremonies  were  pro- 
hibited. The  bishops  of  the  towns  were  invested  with 
power  to  suppress  these  forbidden  usages,  and  the 
civil  authorities,  as  though  the  government  mistrusted 
their  zeal,  were  bound,  under  a  heavy  penalty,  to  obey 
the  summons,  and  to  assist  the  prelates  in  the  extirpa- 
tion of  idolatry.  Another  edict  excluded  all  enemies 
of  the  Christian  faith  from  the  great  public  offices  in 
the  state  and  in  the  army,  and  this,  if  fully  carried 
into  effect,  would  have  transferred  the  whole  power 
throughout  the  empire  into  the  hands  of  the  Christians. 
But  the  times  were  not  yet  ripe  for  this  measure. 
Generides,  a  Pagan,  in  a  high  command  in  the  army, 
threw  up  his  commission.     The  edict  was  repealed.^ 

1  Prudentius  ventures  to  admire  the  tolerant  impartiality  of  Theodosius, 
in  admitting  both  parties  alike  to  civil  and  military  honors.  He  urges  this 
argumentum  ad  hominem  against  Symmachus :  — 

Denique  pro  meritis  terrestribus  gequa  rependens 

Munera,  sacricolis  summos  impertit  honores 

Dux  bonus,  et  certare  sinit  cum  laude  suorum. 

Nee  pago  implicitos  per  debita  culmina  mundi 
■^  Ire  vetat. 

Ipse  magistratum  tibi  consulis,  ipse  tribunal 

Contulit. 
In  the  East,  the  Pagan  Themistius  had  been  appointed  Prefect  of  Con- 
stantinople b}'  Theodosius.    It  is  curious  to  read  his  flatteries  of  the  orthodox 
Christian  emperor;   he  praises  his  love  of  philosophy  in  the  most  fervent 
language. 

The  most  remarkable  instance  of  this  inconsistency,  at  a  much  later 
period,  occurs  in  the  person  of  Merobaudes,  a  general  and  a  poet,  who  flour- 
ished in  the  first  half  of  the  fifth  century.  A  statue  in  honor  of  Merobaudes 
was  placed  in  the  Forum  of  Trajan,  of  which  the  inscription  is  still  extant. 
Fragments  of  his  poems  have  been  discovered  by  the  industry  and  sagacity 
of  Niebuhr,  In  one  passage,  Merobaudes,  in  the  genuine  Heathen  spirit, 
attributes  the  ruin  of  the  empire  to  the  abolition  of  Paganism,  and  almost 


100        CAPTURE  OF  ROME  BY  ALARIC     Book  III. 

Rome  once  more  beheld  the  shadow  of  a  Pagan 
emperor,  Attains,  while  the  Christian  emperor  main- 
tained his  court  at  Ravenna  ;  and  both  stood  trembling 
before  the  victorious  Alaric.     When  that  triumphant 
Goth  formed  the  sieg-e  of  Rome,  Pao;anism,  as 

A.D.  409.      .  &  5         &  5 

if  grateful  for  the  fidelity  of  the  imperial  city, 
made  one  last  desperate  effort  to  avert  the  common 
ruin.  Pagan  magic  was  the  last  refuge  of  conscious 
weakness.  The  Etrurian  soothsayers  were  called  forth 
from  their  obscurity,  with  the  concurrence  of  the 
whole  city  (the  pope  himself  is  said  to  have  assented 
to  the  idolatrous  ceremony),  to  blast  the  barbaric  in- 
vader with  the  lightnings  of  Jupiter.  The  Christian 
historian  saves  the  credit  of  his  party,  by  asserting 
that  they  kept  away  from  the  profane  rite.^  But  it 
may  be  doubted,  after  all,  whether  the  ceremony  really 
took  place ;  both  parties  had  more  confidence  in  the 
power  of  a  large  sum  of  money,  offered  to  arrest  the 
career  of  the  triumphant  barbarian. 

The  impartial  fury  of  Alaric  fell  alike  on  church 
and  temple,  on  Christian  and  Pagan.  But  the  cap- 
renews  the  old  accusation  of  atheism  against  Christianity.  He  impersonates 
some  deity,  probably  Discord,  who  summons  Bellona  to  take  arms  for  the 
destruction  of  Rome;  and,  in  a  strain  of  fierce  irony,  recommends  to  her, 
among  other  fatal  measures,  to  extirpate  the  gods  of  Rome :  — 

Roma,  ipsique  tremant  furialia  murmura  reges. 

Jam  superos  terris,  atque  hospita  numina  pelle : 

Romanes  populare  Deos,  et  nullus  in  aris 

Vestse  exoratas,  fotus  strue,  palleat  ignis. 

His  instructa  dolis  palatia  celsa  subibo, 

Majorum  mores,  et  pectora  prisca  fugabo 

Funditus,  atque  simul,  nuUo  discrimine  rerum, 

Spemantur  fortes,  nee  sit  reverentia  justis. 

Attica  neglecto  pereat  facundia  Plioebo, 

Indignis  contingat  honos,  et  pond  era  rerum; 

Non  virtus  sed  casus  agat,  tristisque  cupido ; 

Pectoribus  saevi  demens  furor  aestuet  aevi ; 

Omniaque  hcec  sine  mente  Jovis,  sine  numine  summo. 

Merobaudes  in  Niebuhr's  edit,  of  the  ByzantineB. 

1  Zosimus,  V.    Sozomen,  ix.  6.    Compare  Latin  Christianity,  vol.  i.  p.  94. 


Chap.  VIII.  RUIN  OF  PAGANISM.  101 

ture  of  Eome  consummated  the  ruin  of  Paganism. 
The  temples,  indeed,  were  for  the  most  part 
left  standing,  but  their  worshippers  had  fled.  Rome  by 
The  Roman  aristocracy,  m  whom  alone 
Paganism  still  retained  its  most  powerful  adherents, 
abandoned  the  city,  and,  scattered  in  the  provinces  of 
the  empire,  were  absorbed  in  the  rapidly  Christian- 
izing population.  The  deserted  buildings  had  now 
neither  public  authority  nor  private  zeal  and  munifi- 
cence to  maintain  them  against  the  encroachments  of 
time  or  accident,  to  support  the  tottering  roof,  or 
repair  the  broken  column.  There  was  neither  public 
fund,  nor  private  contribution,  for  their  preservation, 
till  at  length  the  Christians,  in  many  instances,  took 
possession  of  the  abandoned  edifice,  converted  it  to 
their  own  use,  and  hallowed  it  by  a  new  consecration.^ 
Thus,  in  many  places,  though  marred  and  disfigured, 
the  monuments  of  architecture  survived,  with  no  great 
s^iolation  of  the  ground  plan,  distribution,  or  general 
proportions. 2 

Paganism,  was,  in  fact,  left  to  die  out  by  gradual 
dissolution.-^  The  worship  of  the  Heathen  deities 
lingered  in  many  temples,  till  it  was  superseded  by 
the  new  form  of  Christianity,  which,  at  least  in  its 

1  There  are  many  churches  in  Rome,  which,  like  the  Pantheon,  are 
ancient  temples:  thirty-nine  built  on  the  foundations  of  temples.  Four 
retain  Pagan  names,  —  S.  Maria  sopra  Minerva,  S.  Maria  Aventina,  S.  Lorenze 
in  Matuta,  S.  Stefano  in  Cacco.  At  Sienna,  the  temple  of  Quirinus  became 
the  church  of  S.  Quirino.  —  Beugnot,  ii.  p.  266.  See  in  Bingham,  book  viii. 
s.  4,  references  to  several  churches  in  the  East  converted  into  temples.  But 
this  passage  must  be  read  with  caution. 

2  In  some  cases,  by  a  more  destructive  appropriation,  they  converted  the 
materials  to  their  own  use,  and  worked  them  up  into  their  own  barbarous 
churches. 

3  The  fifth  council  of  Carthage  (A.D.  398),  can.  xv.,  petitioned  the  most 
glorious  emperors  to  destroy  the  remains  of  idolatry,  not  merely  "  in  simu- 
lacris,"  but  in  other  places,  groves,  and  trees. 


102  DIVINATION  AND  WITCHCRAFT.  Book  IH. 

outward  appearance,  approximated  to  Polytheism :  the 
Virgin  gradually  supplanted  many  of  the  local  deities. 
In  Sicily,  which  long  remained  obstinately  wedded  to 
the  ancient  faith,  eight  celebrated  temples  were  dedi- 
cated to  the  Mother  of  God.^  It  was  not  till  the 
seventh  century,  that  the  Pantheon  was  dedicated  by 
Pope  Boniface  TV.  to  the  Holy  Virgin.  Of  the  public 
festivals,  the  last  which  clung  with  tenacious  grasp  to 
the  habits  of  the  Roman  people,  was  the  Lupercalia. 
It  was  suppressed  towards  the  close  of  the 
fifth  century  by  Pope  Gelasius.  The  rural 
districts  were  not  completely  Christianized  until  the 
general  introduction  of  monasticism.  Heathenism  was 
still  prevalent  in  many  parts  of  Italy,  especially  in 
the  neighborhood  of  Turin,  in  the  middle  of  the  fifth 
century .2  Its  conqueror  was  the  missionary  from  the 
convent  who  wandered  through  the  villages,  or  who, 
from  his  monastery,  regularly  discharged  the  duties 
of  a  village  pastor.  St.  Benedict  of  Nursia  destroyed 
the  worship  of  Apollo  on  Mount  Casino.^ 

Everywhere  the  superstition  survived  the  religion, 
and  that  which  was  unlawful  under  Paganism,  con- 
tinued to  be  unlawfully  practised  under  Christianity. 
The  insatiable  propensity  of  men  to  inquire  into 
futurity,  and  to  deal  with  secret  and  invisible  agencies, 
which  reason  condemns,  and  often,  while  it  condemns, 

1  Beugnot,  ii.  271 ;  from  Aprile,  Chronologia  Universale  de  Sicilia. 

2  See  the  sermons  of  Maximus,  Bishop  of  Turin,  quoted  in  Beugnot, 
ii.  253. 

3  Greg.  M.  Dialog.,  lib.  2,  p.  262.  He  converted  many  worshippers  of 
idols  in  a  village  near  his  monastery.  Ibid.,  ch.  xix.  60,  he  mentions  idolo- 
rum  cultores  in  an  epistle  to  the  Bishop  of  Tyndaris  in  Sicily.  So  in  Sar- 
dinea,  iii.  23  and  26.  The  peasants  belonging  to  the  church  were  to  be 
heavily  taxed  till  they  ceased  to  Paganize;  also  he  names  twenty-nine 
worshippers  of  trees,  &c.,  near  Terracina. — vii.  20.  Idolatrous  Aruspices 
and  Sortilegi  in  Sardinia  to  be  preached  to;  if  obstinate,  slaves  to  be 
scourged,  free  men  imprisoned  till  they  repent.  —  vii.  2,  67. 


CHAP.  VIII.  PAGANIZING  CHRISTIANITY.  103 

consults,  retained  its  old  formularies,  some  religious, 
some  pretending  to  be  magical  or  tlieurgic.  Divina- 
tion and  witchcraft  have  never  been  extinct  in  Italj, 
or,  perhaps,  in  any  part  of  Europe.  The  descendants 
of  Canidia  or  Erictho,  the  seer  and  the  magician,  have 
still  practised  their  arts,  to  which  the  ignorant,  in- 
cluding at  times  all  mankind,  have  listened  with  una- 
bated credulity. 

We  must  resume  our  consideration  of  Paganizing 
Christianity,  as  the  parent  of  Christian  art  and  poetry, 
and,  in  fact,  as  the  ruler  of  the  human  mind  for  many 


104  LAWS  AGAINST  HERKTIOS.  Buoic  III. 


CHAPTER    IX. 


Theodosius.    Triumph  of  Trinitarianism.    The  great  Prelates 
of  the  East. 


But  the  unity,  no  less  than  the  triumph,  of  Christianity 
Orthodox  of  occupied  the  vigorous  mind  of  Theodosius. 
Theodosius.  gg  |-^g^(j  heQii  anticipated  in  this  design  in  the 
West  by  his  feeble  predecessors  and  his  colleagues, 
Gratian  and  Yalentinian  the  younger.  The  laws  began 
to  speak  the  language  not  only  of  the  exclusive 
establishment  of  Christianity,  but  of  Christianity  under 
one  rigorous  and  unaccommodating  creed  and  disci- 
pline. Almost  the  first  act  of  Theodosius 
heretics.        was  tlic  cdlct  for  the  universal  acceptance 

A  D    380 

of  the  Catholic  faith .^  It  appeared  under 
the  name,  and  with  the  conjoint  authority  of  the  three 
emperors,  Gratian,  Yalentinian  II.,  and  Theodosius. 
It  was  addressed  to  the  inhabitants  of  Constantinople. 
"We,  the  three  emperors,  will  that  all  our  subjects 
follow  the  religion  taught  by  St.  Peter  to  the  Romans, 
professed  by  those  saintly  prelates,  Damasus  Pontiff 
of  Rome,  and  Peter  Bishop  of  Alexandria,  that  we 
beheve  the  one  divinity  of  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy 
Spirit,  of  majesty  co-equal,  in  the  Holy  Trinity.  We 
will  that  those  who  embrace  this  creed  be  called 
CathoHc  Christians;  we  brand  all  the  senseless  fol- 
lowers of  other  religions  by  the  infamous  name  of 
heretics,  and  forbid  their  conventicles  to  assume  the 

1  Codex  Theodos.  xvi.  1,  2. 


Chap.  IX.  LAWS   AGAINST   HERETICS.  105 

name  of  churches ;  we  reserve  their  punishment  to 
the  vengeance  of  Heaven,  and  to  such  measures  as 
divine  inspiration  shall  dictate  to  us."^  Thus  the 
religion  of  the  whole  Roman  world  was  enacted  by 
two  feeble  boys,  and  a  rude  Spanish  soldier. ^  The 
next  year  witnessed  the  condemnation  of  all  heretics, 
particularly  the  Photinians,  Arians,  and  Eunomians, 
and  the  expulsion  of  the  Arians  from  the  churches 
of  all  the  cities  in  the  East,^  and  their  surrender  to 
the  only  lawful  form  of  Christianity.  On  the  assem- 
bling of  the  council  of  Chalcedon,  two  severe  laws  were 
issued  against  apostates  and  Manicheans,  prohibiting 
them  from  making  wills.  During  its  sitting,  the 
emperor  promulgated  an  edict,  prohibiting  the  Arians 
from  building  churches  either  in  the  cities  or  in  the 
country,  under  pain  of  the  confiscation  of  the  funds 
devoted  to  the  purpose.* 

The  circumstances  of  the  times  happily  coincided 
with  the  design  of  Theodosius  to  concentrate 

.      .  11.  .  All  the  more 

the  whole  Christian  world  into  one  vi^-orous  powerful 

°  ecclesiastical 

and  consistent  system.     The  more  legitimate  writers 

•^  ^  favorable  to 

influence  of  aro-ument  and  intellectual  and  Trinitarian- 

o  ism. 

religious  superiority  concurred  with  the  stern 
mandates    of  the    civil   power.     All    the    great    and 
commanding  minds  of  the  age  were  on  the  same  side 
as  to  the  momentous  and  strongly  agitated  questions 
of  the  faith.      The  productive  energies  of  Arianism 

1  "  Post  etiam  motus  nostri,  quern  ex  coelesti  arbitrio  sumpserimus,  ulti- 
one  plectendos."  Godefroy  supposes  these  words  not  to  mean  "coeleste 
oraculum,"  but  "Dei  arbitrium,  regulam  et  formal  am  juris  divini" 

2  Baronius,  and  even  Godefroy,  call  this  law  a  golden,  pious,  and  whole- 
some statute.     Happily  it  was  on  the  right  side. 

3  On  the  accession  of  Theodosius,  according  to  Sozomen,  the  Arians 
possessed  all  the  churches  of  the  East,  except  Jerusalem.  —  H.  E.  vii.  2. 

■*  Sozomen  mentions  these  severe  laws ;  but  asserts  that  they  were  enacted 
merely  in  terrorem,  and  with  no  design  of  carrying  them  into  execution.  — 
H.  E.  Yu.  12. 


106  ECCLESIASTICAL  WRITERS  Book  IIL 

seemed,  as  it  were,  exhausted;  its  great  defenders 
had  passed  away,  and  left,  apparently,  no  heirs  to 
their  virtues  or  abilities.  It  was  distracted  with 
schisms,  and  had  to  bear  the  unpopularity  of  the  sects, 
which  seemed  to  have  sprung  from  it  in  the  natural 
course,  the  Eunomians,  Macedonians,  and  a  still 
multiplying  progeny  of  heresies.  Everywhere  the 
Trinitarian  prelates  rose  to  ascendency,  not  merely 
from  the  support  of  the  government,  but  from  their 
pre-eminent  character  or  intellectual  powers.  Each 
province  seemed  to  have  produced  some  man  adapted 
to  the  particular  period  and  circumstances  of  the  time, 
who  devoted  himself  to  the  establishment  of  the  ortho- 
dox opinions.  The  intractable  Egypt,  more  especially 
turbulent  Alexandria,  was  ruled  by  the  strong  arm 
of  the  bold  and  unprincipled  Theophilus.  The  dreamy 
mysticism  of  Syria  found  a  congenial  representative 
in  St.  Ephrem.  A  more  intellectual,  yet  still  some- 
what imaginative,  Orientalism  animates  the  writings 
of  St.  Basil;  in  a  less  degree,  those  of  Gregory  of 
Nazianzum;  still  less,  those  of  Gregory  of  Nyssa. 
The  more  powerful  and  Grecian  eloquence  of  Chry- 
sostom  swayed  the  popular  mind  in  Constantinople. 
Jerome,  a  link,  as  it  were,  between  the  East  and  the 
West,  transplanted  the  monastic  spirit  and  opinions 
of  Syria  into  Rome ;  and  brought  into  the  East  much 
of  the  severer  thought,  and  more  prosaic  reasoning,  of 
the  Latin  world.  In  Gaul,  where  Hilary  of  Poic- 
tiers  had  long  maintained  the  cause  of  Trinitari- 
anism,  on  the  borders  of  civilization,  St.  Martin  of 
Tours  acted  the  part  of  a  bold  and  enterprising 
missionary ;  while  in  Milan,  the  court-capital  of  the 
West,  the  strong  practical  character  of  Ambrose,  his 
sternly  conscientious  moral  energy,  though  hardening 


Chap.  IX.  j^AVORABLE  TO  TRINITARIANISM.  107 

at  times  into  rigid  intolerance,  with  the  masculine 
strength  of  his  style,  confirmed  the  Latin  church  in 
that  creed  to  which  Rome  had  adhered  with  almost 
unshaken  fidelity.  If  not  the  greatest,  the  most  per- 
manently influential  of  all,  Augustine,  united  the 
intense  passion  of  the  African  mind  with  the  most 
comprehensive  and  systematic  views  and  intrepid 
dogmatism  on  the  darkest  subjects.  United  in  one 
common  cause,  acting  in  their  several  quarters  accord- 
ing to  their  peculiar  temperaments  and  characters, 
these  strong-minded  and  influential  ecclesiastics  almost 
compelled  the  world  into  a  temporary  peace,  till  first 
Pelagianism,  and  afterwards  Nestorianism,  imsettled 
again  the  restless  elements ;  the  controversies,  first  in 
the  West  concerning  grace,  free-will,  and  predestina- 
tion, then  in  the  East  on  the  Incarnation  and  two 
natures  of  Christ,  succeeded  to  the  silenced  and 
exhausted  feud  concerning  the  Trinity  of  persons  in 
the  Godhead. 

Theophilus  of  Alexandria  ^  performed  his  part  in 
the    complete    subjection    of   the    world    by    . 

^  "^  •'    Theophilus  of 

his  enerffv  as  a  ruler,  not  by   the   slower  Alexandria, 

^•'  _    ^  '  ^  *'  bishop,  from 

and  more  legitimate  influence  of  moral  3Soto4i2. 
persuasion  through  his  preaching  or  his  writings .^  He 
suppressed  Arianism  by  the  same  violent  and  coercive 
means  with  which  he  extirpated  Paganism.  The  tone 
of  this  prelate's  epistles  is  invariably  harsh  and  crimi- 
natory. He  appears  in  the  best  light  as  opposing 
the  vulgar  anthropomorphism  of  the  monks  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Alexandria,  and  insisting  on  the  pure 
spiritual  nature  of  the  Deity.     Yet  he  condescended  to 

1  I  have  not  placed  these  writers  in  their  strict  chi'onological  order,  but 
according  to  the  countries  in  which  they  lived. 

2  The  Trinitarian  doctrines  had  been  maintained  in  Alexandria  by  the 
virtues  and  abilities  of  Didymus  the  Blind. 


108  ST.  EPHREM  THE  SYRIAN.  Book  III, 

appease  these  turbulent  adversaries  by  au  unmanly 
artifice.  He  consented  to  condemn  the  doctrines  of 
Origen,  who,  having  reposed  quietly  in  his  tomb  for 
many  years,  in  general  respect,  if  not  in  the  odor  of 
sanctity,  was  exhumed,  as  it  were,  by  the  zeal  of  later 
times,  as  a  dangerous  heresiarch.  The  Oriental  doc- 
trines with  which  Origen  had  impregnated  his  system 
were  unpopular,  and  perhaps  not  clearly  understood.^ 
The  notion  that  the  reign  of  Christ  was  finite  was 
rather  an  inference  from  his  writings  than  a  tenet  of 
Origen  ;  for,  if  all  bodies  were  to  be  finally  annihilated 
(according  to  his  anti-materialistic  system) ,  the  human- 
ity of  Christ,  and  consequently  his  personal  reign, 
must  cease.  The  possibility  that  the  Devil  might, 
after  long  purification,  be  saved,  and  the  corruptibility 
of  the  body  after  the  resurrection,  grew  out  of  the 
same  Oriental  cast  of  opinions.  But  the  perfectly  pure 
and  immaterial  nature  of  the  Deity  was  the  tenet  of 
Origen  which  was  the  most  odious  to  the  monks ;  and 
Theophilus,  by  anathematizing  Origenism  in  the  mass, 
while  he  himself  held  certainly  the  sublimest,  but  to 
his  adversaries  most  objectionable  part  of  the  system, 
adopted  a  low  and  undignified  deception.  The  perse- 
cution of  Isidore,  and  the  heads  of  the  monasteries 
who  befriended  his  cause  (the  tall  brethren,  as  they 
were  called),  from  personal  motives  of  animosity, 
display  the  Alexandrian  prelate  in  his  ordinary  char- 
acter. We  shall  again  encounter  Theophilus  in  the 
lamentable  intrigues  against  the  advancement  and 
influence  of  Chrysostom. 

The  character  of  Ephrem  ^  the  Syrian  was  the  exact 
St.  Ephrem     couutcrpart  to  that  of  the  busy  and  worldly 

the  Syrian,        rn  J  J 

died  379.        Tlieophilus.    A  uativc  of  Nisibis,  or  rather  of 

1  Socrates,  vi.  10.     Sozomen,  viii.  13. 

2  See  the  Life  of  Ephrem  prefixed  to  his  works,  and  in  Tillemont. 


Chap.  IX.  ST.  EPHREM  THE  SYRIAN-.  109 

its  neighborhood,  Ephrem  passed  the  greater  part  of 
his  life  at  Edessa,  and  in  the  monastic  establishments 
which  began  to  abound  in  Mesopotamia  and  Syria,  as  in 
Egypt.  His  genius  was  that  of  the  people  in  whose 
language  he  wrote  his  numerous  compositions  in  prose 
and  verse. ^  In  Ephrem  something  of  the  poetic 
mysticism  of  the  Gnostic  was  allied  with  the  most  rigid 
orthodoxy  of  doctrine.  But  with  his  imaginative  turn 
were  mingled  a  depth  and  intensity  of  feeling,  which 
gave  him  his  peculiar  influence  over  the  kindred  minds 
of  his  countrymen.  Tears  were  as  natural  to  him  as 
perspiration ;  day  and  night,  in  his  devout  seclusion, 
he  wept  for  the  sins  of  mankind  and  for  his  own ; 
his  very  writings,  it  was  said,  weep ;  there  is  a  deep 
and  latent  sorrow  even  in  his  panegyrics  or  festival 
homilies. 2 

Ephrem  was  a  poet;  and  his  hymns,  poured  forth 
in  the  prodigality  of  his  zeal,  succeeded  at  length  in 
entirely  disenchanting  the  popular  ear  from  the  hereti- 
cal strains  of  Bardesanes  and  his  son  Harmonius, 
which  lingered  after  the  general  decay  of  Gnosticism.^ 
The  hynms  of  Ephrem  were  sung  on  the  festivals  of 
the  martyrs.  His  psalms,  the  constant  occupation 
which  he  enjoins  upon  his  monkish  companions,  were 
always  of  a  sorrowful  and  contrite  tone.  Laughter 
was  the  source  and  the  indication  of  all  wickedness, 
sorrow  of  all  virtue.     During  the  melancholy  psalm, 

1  According  to  Theodoret,  he  was  unacquainted  with  Greek.  Jlacdda^ 
yap  ov  yeyevfievog  klTirivLKrjg,  rovg  re  TroTiVaxidelg  rdv  'EAA^vwv  dLTjT^y^e 
TzTutvovg  Koi  'Ku.arjg  alpercK^g  naKOTEXviag  kyviivuae  ttjv  aadevsiav.  I'he 
refutation  of  Greek  heresy  in  Syriac  must  have  heen  curious. 

2  See  the  two  treatises  in  his  works,  vol.  i.  104-107.  "  Non  esse  riden- 
dum  sed  lugendum  potius  atque  plorandum;"  and,  "Quod  ludicris  rebus 
abstinendum  sit  Christianis." 

8  Theodoret,  iv.  29. 


110  ST.  EPHREM  THE  SYRIAN.  Book  HI. 

God  was  present  with  his  angels :    all   more  joyous 
strains  belonged  to  heathenism  and  idolatry. 

The  monasticism,  as  well  as  the  Trinitarianism,  of 
Syria  received  a  strong  impulse  from  Ephrem ;  and 
in  Syria  monasticism  began  to  run  into  its  utmost  ex- 
travagance. There  was  one  class  of  ascetics  who,  at 
certain  periods,  forsook  their  cities,  and  retired  to  the 
mountains  to  browse  on  the  herbage  which  they  found, 
as  their  only  food.  The  writings  of  Ephrem  were  the 
occupation  and  delight  of  all  these  gentle  and  irre- 
proachable fanatics ;  and,  as  Ephrem  was  rigidly  Trin- 
itarian, he  contributed  to  fix  the  doctrinal  language  of 
the  various  coenobitic  institutions  and  solitary  hermi- 
tages. In  fact,  the  quiescent  intellect  probably  rejoiced 
in  being  relieved  from  these  severe  and  ungrateful  in- 
quiries ;  and,  full  freedom  being  left  to  the  imagination 
and  ample  scope  to  the  language  in  the  vague  and 
fervent  expressions  of  divine  love,  the  Syrian  mind  felt 
not  the  restriction  of  the  rigorous  creed,  and  passively 
surrendered  itself  to  ecclesiastical  authority.  Absorbed 
in  its  painful  and  melancholy  struggles  with  the  inter- 
nal passions  and  appetites,  it  desired  not  to  provoke, 
but  rather  to  repress,  the  dangerous  activity  of  the 
reason.  The  orthodoxy  of  Ephrem  himself  savors 
perhaps  of  timidity  and  the  disinclination  to  agitate 
such  awful  and  appalling  questions.  He  would  elude 
and  escape  them,  and  abandon  himself  altogether  to 
the  more  edifying  emotions  which  it  is  the  cliief  object 
of  his  writings  to  excite  and  maintain.  The  dreamer 
must  awake  in  order  to  reason,  and  he  prefers  the  pas- 
sive tranquillity  of  the  half-slumbering  state. 

Greece,  properly  so  called,  contributed  none  of  the 
more  distinguished  names  in  Eastern  Christianity. 
Even  the  Grecian  part  of  Asia  Minor  was  by  no  means 


Chap.  IX.  CAPPADOCIA.  HI 

fertile  in  names  which  survive  in  the  annals  of  the 
Church.  In  Athens,  philosophy  still  lingered,  and 
struggled  to  maintain  its  predominance.  Many  of  the 
more  eminent  ecclesiastics  had  visited  its  schools  in 
their  youth,  to  obtain  those  lessons  of  rhetoric  and 
profane  knowledge  which  they  were  hereafter  to  dedi- 
cate to  their  own  sacred  uses.  But  they  were  foreign- 
ers ;  and,  in  the  old  language  of  Greece,  would  have 
been  called  barbarians. 

Tlie  rude  and  uncivilized  Cappadocia  gave  birth  to 
Basil  and  the  two  Gregories.  The  whole  of 
the  less  dreamy  and  still  active  and  commer-  ^^^^  °°^** 
cial  part  of  Asia  was  influenced  by  Basil,  on  whose 
character  and  writings  his  own  age  lavished  the  most 
unbounded  praise.  The  name  of  Basil  is  constantly 
united  with  those  of  the  two  Gregories.  One,  Gregory 
of  Nyssa,  was  his  brother ;  the  other,  named  from 
his  native  town  of  Nazianzum,  of  which  his  father 
was  bishop,  was  the  intimate  friend  of  his  boyhood  and 
of  his  later  years.  The  language,  the  eloquence,  the 
opinions,  of  these  writers  retain,  in  different  degrees, 
some  tinge  of  Asiatic  coloring.  Par  more  intelligible 
and  practical  than  the  mystic  strains  and  passionate 
homilies  of  Ephrem,  they  delight  in  agitating,  though 
in  a  more  modest  spirit,  the  questions  which  had  in- 
flamed the  imagination  of  the  Gnostics.  But  with 
them,  likewise,  inquiry  proceeds  with  cautious  and 
reverent  steps.  On  these  subjects  they  are  rigorously 
orthodox,  and  assert  the  exclusive  doctrines  of  Atha- 
nasius  with  the  most  distinct  and  uncompromising 
energy.  Basil  maintained  the  cause  of  Trinitarianism 
with  unshaken  fidelity  during  its  days  of  depression 
and  adversity.  His  friend  Gregory  of  Nazianzum 
lived  to  witness  and  bear  a  great  part  of  its  triumph. 


112  ST.  BASIL.  Book  III. 

Both  Basil  and  Gregory  were  ardent  admirers,  and  in 
themselves  transcendent  models,  of  the  more  monastic 
Christianity.  The  influence  of  Basil  crowded  that 
part  of  Asia  with  coenobitic  institutions  :  but  in  his 
monasteries  labor  and  useful  industry  prevailed  to  a 
greater  extent  than  in  the  Syrian  deserts. 

Basil  was  a  native  of  the  Oappadocian  C^sarea.^    He 
was   an   hereditary  Christian.      His   a-rand- 

St.  Basil.  "^  ° 

father  had  retired  during  the  Diocletian  per- 
secution to  a  mountain-forest  in  Pontus.  His  father 
was  a  man  of  estimation  as  a  lawyer,  possessed  con- 
siderable property,  and  was  remarkable  for  his  personal 
beauty.  His  mother,  in  person  and  character,  was 
worthy  of  her  husband.  The  son  of  such  parents  re- 
ceived the  best  education  which  could  be  bestowed  on 
a  Christian  youth.  Having  exhausted  the  instruction 
to  be  obtained  in  his  native  city  of  Csesarea,  he  went 
to  Constantinople,  where  he  is  reputed  to  have  studied 
the  art  of  rhetoric  under  the  celebrated  Libanius. 
But  Athens  was  still  the  centre  of  liberal  education ; 
and,  with  other  promising  youths  from  the  Eastern 
provinces,  Basil  and  his  friend  Gregory  resided  for 
some  time  in  that  city.  But,  with  all  liis  taste  for  let- 
ters and  eloquence  (and  Basil  always  spoke  even  of 
profane  learning  with  generous  respect,  far  diiferent 
from  the  tone  of  contempt  and  animosity  expressed  by 
some  writers),  Christianity  was  too  deeply  rooted  in 
his  heart  to  be  endangered  either  by  the  studies  or  the 
society  of  Athens.  On  his  return  to  Csesarea,  he  em- 
braced the  ascetic  faith  of  the  times  with  more  than 
ordinary  fervor.  He  abandoned  his  property ;  he 
practised  such  severe  austerities  as  to  injure  his 
health,  and  to  reduce  his  bodily  form  to  the  extreme 

1  Life  of  Basil,  prefixed  to  his  works;  and  Tillemont,  Vie  de  S.  Basile. 


Chap.  IX.  ST.  BASIL.  113 

of  meagreness  and  weakness.  He  was  "  without  wife, 
without  property,  without  flesh,  ahiiost  without  blood.'' 
He  fled  into  the  desert ;  his  fame  collected,  as  it  were, 
a  city  around  him ;  he  built  a  monastery,  and  monas- 
teries sprang  up  on  every  side.  Yet  the  opinions  of 
Basil  concerning  the  monastic  life  were  far  more  mod- 
erate and  practical  than  the  wilder  and  more  dreamy 
asceticism  which  prevailed  in  Egypt  and  in  Syria.  He 
admired  and  persuaded  his  followers  to  coenobitic,  not 
to  eremitical,  life.  It  was  the  life  of  the  industrious 
religious  community,  not  of  the  indolent  and  solitary 
anchorite,  which  to  Basil  was  the  perfection  of  Chris- 
tianity. All  ties  of  kindred  were,  indeed,  to  give  place 
to  that  of  spiritual  association.  He  that  loves  a  brother 
in  blood  more  than  a  brother  in  the  religious  commu- 
nity is  still  a  slave  to  his  carnal  nature.^  The  indis- 
criminate charity  of  these  institutions  was  to  receive 
orphans  of  all  classes  for  education  and  maintenance, 
but  other  children  only  with  the  consent  or  at  the  re- 
quest of  parents,  certified  before  witnesses ;  and  vows 
of  virginity  were  by  no  means  to  be  enforced  upon 
these  youthful  pupils. ^  Slaves  who  fled  to  the  monas- 
teries were  to  be  admonished,  and  sent  back  to  their 
owners.  There  is  one  reservation,  that  slaves  were 
not  bound  to  obey  their  master,  if  he  should  order 
what  is  contrary  to  the  laws  of  God.^  Industry  was 
to  be  the  animating  principle  of  these  settlements. 
Prayer  and  psalmody  were  to  have  their  appointed 
hours,  but  by  no  means  to  intrude  upon  those  devoted 
to  useful  labor.  These  labors  were  strictly  defined,  — 
such  as  were  of  real  use  to  the  community,  not  those 
which  might  contribute  to  vice  or  luxury.     Agricul- 

1  Basil.  Opera,  ii.  325.     Sermo  Asceticus. 

2  Basil.  Opera,  ii.  355.  3  Basil.  Opera,  ii.  S57. 
VOL.    III.                                                   8 


114  GREGORY  OF  ITAZIANZUM.  Book  III. 

ture  was  especially  recommended.  The  life  was  in  no 
respect  to  be  absorbed  in  a  perpetual  mystic  commu- 
nion with  the  Deity. 

Basil  lived  in  his  monastic  retirement  during  a  great 

part  of  the  triumphant  period  of  Arianism  in  the  East ; 

but,  during  the  rei2:n  of  Yalens,  he  was  re- 

A  D.  366.  ?  &  &  ? 

See  chap.  Tii.  called  to  Cassarca,  to  be  the  champion  of 
p.  49.  ^         Trinitarianism  against  the  emperor  and  his 

Arian  partisans.  The  firmness  of  Basil,  as 
we  have  seen,  commanded  the  respect  even  of  his  ad- 
versaries. In  the  midst  of  the  raging  controversy,  he 
was  raised  to  the  archepiscopal  throne  of  Csesarea. 
He  governed  the  see  with  activity  and  diligence :  not 
only  the  influence  of  his  writings,  but  his  actual 
authority  (his  pious  ambition  of  usefulness  induced 
him  perhaps  to  overstep  the  limits  of  his  diocese),  ex- 
tended beyond  Cappadocia,  into  Armenia  and  parts  of 
Asia  Minor.    He  was  the  firm  supporter  of  the  Nicene 

Trinitarianism,  but  did  not  live  to  behold  its 

A.D.  379.  ' 

final  triumph.  His  decease  followed  imme- 
diately upon  the  defeat  and  death  of  Yalens. 

The  style  of  Basil  did  no  discredit  to  his  Athenian 
education;  in  purity  and  perspicuity  he  surpasses 
most  of  the  Heathen  as  well  as  the  Christian  writers 
of  his  age. 

Gregory  of  Nazianzum,  as  he  shared  the  friendship, 
Gregory  of  ^^  ^^®  ^^^^  coustautly  participated  in  the  fame, 
Narianzum.  ^f  Basil.  Hc  was  born  in  a  village,  Arianza, 
within  the  district  of  Nazianzum :  his  father  was  bishop 
of  that  city.i  With  Basil  he  passed  a  part  of  his  youth 
at  Athens,  and  predicted,  according  to  his  own  account, 

1  Tilleraont  is  grievously  embarrassed  by  the  time  of  Gregory's  birth. 
The  stubborn  dates  insist  upon  his  having  been  born  after  his  father  had  at- 
tained the  episcopate.  Tillemont  is  forced  to  acknowledge  the  laxity  of  ec- 
clesiastical discipline  on  this  head,  at  this  period  of  the  Church. 


Chap.  IX.  GREEK  AND   CHRISTIAN  POETRY.  115 

the  apostasy  of  Julian,  from  the  observation  of  his 
character,  and  even  of  his  person.     Gregory 

His  poems. 

IS  his  own  biographer :  one  or  rather  two 
poems,  the  first  consisting  of  above  two  thousand 
iambics,  the  second  of  hexameters,  describe  the  whole 
course  of  his  early  life.  But  Grecian  poetry  was  not 
to  be  awakened  from  its  long  slumber  by  the  voice  of 
a  Christian  poet :  it  was  faithful  to  its  ancient  source 
of  inspiration.  Christian  thoughts  and  images  will 
not  blend  with  the  language  of  Homer  and  the  trage- 
dians. Yet  the  autobiographical  poems  of  Gregory 
illustrate  a  remarkable  peculiarity  which  distinguishes 
modern  and  Christian  from  the  older,  more  particularly 
the  Grecian,  poetry.  In  the  Grecian  poetry,  as  in 
Grecian  life,  the  public  absorbed  the  individual  char- 
acter. The  person  of  the  poet  rarely  appears,  unless 
occasionally  as  the  poet,  as  the  objective  author  or  re- 
citer, not  as  the  subject  of  the  poem.  The  characteristic 
elegiac  poets  of  Greece,  if  we  may  judge  from  be^wST^ 
the  few  surviving  fragments,  and  the  ama-  chriS^ian^ 
tory  writers  of  Rome,  speak  in  their  proper  ^°^*'^^" 
persons,  utter  their  individual  thoughts,  and  embody 
their  peculiar  feelings.  In  the  shrewd  common-life 
view  of  Horace,  and,  indeed,  in  some  of  his  higher 
lyric  poetry,  the  poet  is  more  prominent ;  and  the  fate 
of  Ovid,  one  day  basking  in  the  imperial  favor,  the 
next,  for  some  mysterious  offence,  banished  to  the  bleak 
shores  of  the  Euxine,  seemed  to  give  him  the  privilege 
of  dwelling  upon  his  own  sorrows :  his  strange  fate 
invested  his  life  in  peculiar  interest.  These,  however, 
are  rare  and  exceptional  instances  in  Greek  and  Roman 
poetry.  But  by  the  Christian  scheme,  the  individual 
man  has  assumed  a  higher  importance ;  his  actions, 
his  opinions,  the  emotions  of  his  mind,  as  connected 


116  POEMS  OF  GREGORY.         Book  IH. 

with  his  immortal  state,  have  acquired  a  new  and  com- 
manding interest,  not  only  to  himself,  but  to  others. 
The  poet  profoundly  scrutinizes  and  elaborately  re- 
veals the  depths  of  his  moral  being.  The  psycho- 
logical history  of  the  man,  in  all  its  minute  particulars, 
becomes  the  predominant  matter  of  the  poem.  In 
this  respect,  these  autobiographical  poems  of  Gregory, 
Value  of  loose  as  they  are  in  numbers,  spun  out  with 
Gregory's.  ^  wcarlsomc  and  garrulous  mediocrity,  and 
wanting  that  depth  and  passion  of  religion  which  has 
made  the  Confessions  of  Augustine  one  of  the  most 
permanently  popular  of  Christian  writings,  possess 
nevertheless  some  interest,  as  indicating  the  transition 
state  in  poetry,  as  well  as  illustrating  the  thought  and 
feeling  prevalent  among  the  Christian  youth  of  the 
period.  The  one  great  absorbing  question  was  the  com- 
parative excellence  of  the  secular  and  the  monastic 
life,  the  state  of  marriage  or  of  virginity.  The  enthu- 
siasm of  the  East  scarcely  deigned  to  submit  this  point 
to  discussion.  In  one  of  Gregory's  poems.  Marriage 
and  Virginity  each  pleads  his  cause ;  but  there  can  be 
no  doubt,  from  the  first,  to  which  will  be  assigned  the 
victory.  The  Saviour  gives  to  Virginity  the  place  of 
honor  on  his  right  hand.  Gregory  had  never  entangled 
himself  with  marriage,  that  fatal  tie  which  enthralls 
the  soul  in  the  bonds  of  matter.  For  him  silken  robes, 
gorgeous  banquets,  splendid  palaces,  music  and  per- 
fumes, had  no  charm.  He  disregarded  wealth,  and 
feasted  contentedly  on  bread  with  a  little  salt,  and  water 
for  his  only  drink.  The  desire  of  supporting  the  de- 
clining age  of  his  parents  thwarted  his  holy  ambition 
of  withdrawing  from  all  worldly  intercourse ;  but  this 
became  a  snare.  He  was  embarrassed  by  refractory 
servants,  by  public  and  private  business.     The  death 


Chap.  IX.  GREGORY,  BISHOP  OF  SASIMA.  117 

of  his  brother  involved  him  still  more  inextricably  in 
affairs  arising  out  of  his  contested  property.  But  the 
faithless  friendship  of  Basil,  which  he  deplores  in  the 
one  touching  passage  of  his  whole  poem,^  still  further 
endangered  his  peace.  In  the  zeal  of  Basil  to  fill 
the  bishoprics  of  his  metropolitan  diocese,  ^^^^^^ 
calculating  perhaps  that  Gregory,  like  him-  gaJma.'^^ 
self,  would  generously  sacrifice  the  luxury  '*-^-372. 
of  religious  quietude  for  the  more  useful  duties  of  a 
difficult  active  position,  he  imposed  upon  his  reluctant 
friend  the  charge  of  the  newly  created  see  of  Sasima. 
This  was  a  small  and  miserable  town,  at  the  meeting 
of  three  roads,  in  a  country  at  once  arid,  marshy,  and 
unwholesome,  noisy  and  dusty  from  the  constant  pas- 
sage of  travellers,  the  disputes  with  extortionate  cus- 
tom-house officers,  and  all  the  tumult  and  drunkenness 
belonging  to  a  town  inhabited  by  loose  and  passing 
strangers.  With  Basil,  Gregory  had  passed  the  tran- 
quil days  of  his  youth,  the  contemplative  period  of  his 
manhood  ;  together  they  had  studied  at  Athens,  to- 
gether they  had  twice  retired  to  monastic  solitude ; 
and  this  was  the  return  for  his  long  and  tried  attach- 
ment ?  Gregory,  in  the  bitterness  of  his  remonstrance, 
at  one  time  assumes  the  language  of  an  Indian  faquir. 
Instead  of  rejoicing  in  the  sphere  opened  to  his  activity, 

1  Gibbon's  selection  of  this  passage,  and  his  happy  illustration  from 
Shakespeare,  do  great  credit  to  his  poetical  taste :  — 
HovoL  Kolvoi  7i.6yav 
'OfioaTsyog  re,  aal  avvearcoc  Blog, 
Noijf  elg  ev  aii^olv  .  .  . 
AieaKeSaarat  iravTa,  Ka^^cTcrai  x^(^<^^) 
kvpai  (pspovGL  Tag  iraTiacug  ekmdag. 

Is  all  the  counsel  that  we  two  have  shared, 
The  sisters'  vows,  &c. 

Helena,  in  the  Midsummer  Night's  Dream, 
See  Gibbon,  c.  xxvL.  vol.  v.  p.  18. 


118  GREGORY,  BISHOP  Book  IH. 

he  boldly  asserts  his  supreme  fel'icity  to  be  total  inac- 
tion.^ He  submitted  with  the  strongest  repugnance 
to  the  office,  and  abandoned  it,  almost  immediately,  on 
the  first  opposition.  He  afterwards  administered  the 
see  of  Nazianzum  under  his  father,  and  even  after  his 
father's  decease,  without  assuming  the  episcopal  title. 

But  Gregory  was  soon  compelled  by  his  own  fame 
Gregory,  for  cloqucnce  and  for  orthodoxy  to  move  in 
consunti-  a  more  arduous  and  tumultuous  sphere.  For 
From  A  D  fo^^y  ycars  Arianism  had  been  dominant  in 
339  to  379.  Constantinople.  The  Arians  mocked  at  the 
small  number  which  still  lingered  in  the  single  reli- 
gious assemblage  of  the  Athanasian  party.^  Gregory 
is  constrained  to  admit  this  humiliating  fact,  and  in- 
dignantly inquires,  whether  the  sands  are  more  precious 
than  the  stars  of  heaven,  or  the  pebbles  than  pearls, 
because  they  are  more  numerous.^  But  the  accession 
of  Theodosius  opened  a  new  era  to  the  Trinitarians. 
The  religion  of  the  emperor  would  no  longer  conde- 
scend to  this  humble  and  secondary  station.  Gregory 
was  invited  to  take  charge  of  the  small  community 
which  was  still  faithful  to  the  doctrines  of  Athanasius. 
Gregory  was  already  bowed  with  age  and  infirmity ; 
his  bald  head  stooped  to  his  bosom ;  his  countenance 
was  worn  by  his  austerities  and  his  inward  spiritual 
conflicts,  when  he  reluctantly  sacrificed  his  peace  for 
this  great  purpose.*  Tlie  Catholics  had  no  church ; 
they  met  in  a  small  house,  on  the  site  of  which  after- 
wards arose  the  celebrated  church  of  St.  Anastasia. 
The  eloquence  of  Gregory  wrought  wonders  in  the 
busy  and  versatile  capital.     The   Arians   themselves 

1  'E//oi  de  [MEyiarr]  irpd^Lg  Iotlv  rj  arcpa^ia,  —  Epist.  xxiii.  p.  797. 

2  In  the  reign  of  Valentinian,  they  met  hv  (XLKpCi  o'tKcaKG).  —  Socrates, 
iv.  1. 

8  Orat.  XXV.  p.  431.  *  Tillemont,  art.  xlvi. 


Chap.  IX.  OF  CONSTANTINOPLE.  119 

crowded  to  hear  him.  His  adversaries  were  reduced 
to  violence ;  the  Aiiastasia  was  attacked ;  the  Arian 
monks,  and  even,  the  virgins,  mingled  in  the  furious 
fray:  many  lives  were  lost,  and  Gregory  was  accused 
as  the  cause  of  the  tumult.  His  innocence,  and  the 
known  favor  of  the  emperor,  secured  his  acquittal ; 
his  eloquence  was  seconded  by  the  imperial  edicts. 
The  law  had  been  promulgated  which  denounced  as 
heretics  all  who  rejected  the  Nicene  Creed. 

The  influence  of  Gregory  was  thwarted,  and  his 
peace  disturbed,  by  the  strange  intrigues  of  one  Max- 
imus  to  possess  himself  of  the  episcopal  throne  of 
Constantinople.  Maximus  was  called  the  Cynic,  from 
his  attempt  to  blend  the  rude  manners,  the  coarse 
white  dress,  his  enemies  added,  the  vices,  of  that  sect, 
with  the  profession  of  Chistianity.  His  memory  is 
loaded  with  every  kind  of  infamy ;  yet,  by  dexterous 
flattery  and  assiduous  attendance  on  the  sermons  of 
Gregory,  he  had  stolen  into  his  unsuspecting  confi- 
dence, and  received  his  public  commendations  in  a 
studied  oration. ^  Constantinople  and  Gregory  himself 
were  suddenly  amazed  with  the  intelligence  that  Max- 
imus had  been  consecrated  the  Catholic  bishop  of  the 
city.  This  extraordinary  measure  had  been  taken  by 
seven  Alexandrians  of  low  birth  and  character, ^  with 
some  bishops  deputed  by  Peter,  the  orthodox  Arch- 
bishop   of    Alexandria.^      A    number    of    mariners, 

1  The  panegjTic  on  the  philosopher  Heron. 

2  Some  of  their  names  were  whimsically  connected  with  the  Egyptian 
mythology.  —  Ammon,  Anubis,  and  Hermanubis. 

3  The  interference  of  the  Egyptians  is  altogether  remarkable.  Could  there 
be  a  design  to  establish  the  primacy  of  Alexandria  over  Constantinople,  and 
80  over  the  East?  It  is  observable,  that,  in  his  law,  Theodosius  names,  as 
the  examples  of  doctrine,  the  Bishop  of  Rome  in  the  West,  of  Alexandria 
in  the  East.  The  intrigues  of  Theophilus  against  Chrysostom  rather  coniirra 
this  notion  of  an  attempt  to  erect  an  Eastern  papacy. 


120  GREGORY,  BISHOP  Book  III. 

probably  belonging  to  the  corn  fleet,  had  assisted  at 
the  ceremony,  and  raised  the  customary  acclamations. 
A  great  tumult  of  all  orders  arose ;  all  rushed  to  the 
church,  from  wliich  Maximus  and  his  party  withdrew, 
and  liastily  completed  a  kind  of  tonsure  (for  the  Cynic 
prided  himself  on  his  long  hair)  in  the  private  dwelling 
of  a  flute-player.  Maximus  seems  to  have  been  re- 
jected with  indignation  by  the  Athanasians  of  Con- 
stantinople, who  adhered  with  unshaken  fidelity  to 
Gregory ;  he  fled  to  the  court  of  Tlieodosius,  but  the 
earliest  measure  adopted  by  the  emperor  to  restore 
strength  to  the  orthodox  party  was  the  rejection  of 
the  intrusive  prelate. 

The  first  act  of  Theodosius,  on  his  arrival  at  Constan- 
24th  Nov.  tinople,  was  to  issue  an  edict,  expelling  the 
A.D.  380.  Arians  from  the  churches,  and  summoning 
Demophilus,  the  Arian  bishop,  to  conform  to  the  Nicene 
doctrine.  Demophilus  refused.  The  emperor  com- 
manded that  those  who  would  not  unite  to  establish 
Christian  peace  should  retire  from  the  liouses  of  Chris- 
tian prayer.  Demophilus  assembled  his  followers,  and, 
quoting  the  words  of  the  Gospel,  "  If  you  are  perse- 
cuted in  one  city,  flee  unto  another,"  retired  before  the 
irresistible  authority  of  the  emperor.  The  next  step 
was  the  appointment  of  the  reluctant  Gregory  to  the 
see,  and  his  enthronization  in  the  principal  church  of 
the  metropolis.  Environed  by  the  armed  legionaries, 
in  military  pomp,  accompanied  by  tlie  emperor  himself, 
Gregory,  amazed  and  bewildered,  and  perhaps  sensible 
of  the  incongruity  of  tlie  scene  with  the  true  Christian 
character,  headed  the  triumphal  procession.  All 
around  he  saw  the  sullen  and  menacing  faces  of  the 
Arian  multitude,  and  liis  ear  might  catch  tlicir  sup- 
pressed murmurs ;  even  the  heavens,  for  the  morning 


Chap.  IX.  OF  CONSTANTINOPLE.  121 

was  bleak  and  cloudy,  seemed  to  look  down  with  cold 
indifference  on  the  scene.  No  sooner,  however,  had 
Gregory,  with  the  emperor,  passed  the  rails  which 
divided  the  sanctuary  from  the  nave  of  the  church, 
than  the  sun  burst  forth  in  his  splendor,  the  clouds 
were  dissipated,  and  the  glorious  light  came  streaming 
in  upon  the  applauding  congregation.  At  once  a  shout 
of  acclamation  demanded  the  enthronization  of  Greg- 
ory. 

But  Gregory,  commanding  only  in  his  eloquence 
from  the  pulpit,  seems  to  have  wanted  the  firmness 
and  vigor  necessary  for  the  prelate  of  a  great  metropo- 
lis. Theodosius  summoned  the  council  of  Constanti- 
nople ;  and  Gregory,  embarrassed  by  the  multiplicity 
of  affairs,  harassed  by  objections  to  the  validity  of 
nis  own  election,  entangled  in  the  feuds  which  arose 
out  of  the  contested  election  to  the  see  of  Antioch, 
entreated,  and  obtained,  apparently  the  unreluctant 
assent  of  the  bishops  and  the  emperor  to  abdicate  his 
dignity,  and  to  retire  to  his  beloved  privacy.  His 
retreat,  in  some  degree  disturbed  by  the  interest  which 
he  still  took  in  the  see  of  Nazianzum,  gradually 
became  more  complete,  till,  at  length,  he  withdrew 
into  solitude,  and  ended  his  days  in  that  peace,  which 
perhaps  was  not  less  sincerely  enjoyed  from  his  expe- 
rience of  the  cares  and  vexations  of  worldly  dignity. 
Arianza,  his  native  village,  was  the  place  of  his  seclu- 
sion ;  the  gardens,  the  trees,  the  fountain,  familiar  to 
his  youth,  welcomed  his  old  age.  But  Gregory  had 
not  exhausted  the  fears,  the  dangers,  or  the  passions 
of  life.  The  desires  of  youth  still  burned  in  his 
withered  body,  and  demanded  the  severest  macerations. 
The  sight  or  even  the  neighborhood  of  females  afflicted 
his  sensitive  conscience ;  and,  instead  of  allowing  ease 


122  CHRYSOSTOM.  Book  III. 

or  repose  to  his  aged  frame,  his  bed  was  a  hard  mat, 
his  coverlid  sackcloth,  his  dress  one  thin  tunic ;  his 
feet  were  bare ;  he  allowed  himself  no  fire  ;  and  here, 
in  the  company  of  the  wild  beasts,  he  prayed  with 
bitter  tears,  he  fasted,  and  devoted  his  hours  to  the 
composition  of  poetry,  which,  from  its  extreme  diffi- 
culty, he  considered  as  an  act  of  penitence.  His  pain- 
ful existence  was  protracted  to  the  age  of  ninety. 

The  complete  restoration  of  Constantinople  to  the 
orthodox  communion  demanded  even  more  powerful 
eloquence,  and  far  more  vigorous  authority,  than  that 
of  Gregory.  If  it  was  not  finally  achieved,  its  success 
was  secured,  by  the  most  splendid  orator  who  had  ever 
adorned  the  Eastern  church.  Sixteen  years  after  the 
retirement  of  Gregory,  the  fame  of  Chrysostom  desig- 
nated him  as  the  successor  to  that  important  dignity. 

Chrysostom  was  the  model  of  a  preacher  for  a  great 
capital.^      Clear   rather   than    profound,  his 

Chrysostom.  ^  ^ 

dogmatic  is  essentially  moulded  up  with  his 
moral  teaching.  He  is  the  champion,  not  so  exclu- 
sively of  any  system  of  doctrines,  as  of  Christian 
holiness  against  the  vices,  the  dissolute  manners,  the 
engrossing  love  of  amusement,  which  prevailed  in 
the  new  Rome  of  the  East.  His  doctrines  flow  natu- 
rally from  his  subject  or  from  the  passage  of  Scripture 
under  discussion ;  his  illustrations  are  copious  and 
happy ;  his  style  free  and  fluent ;  while  he  is  an 
unrivalled  master  in  that  rapid  and  forcible  application 
of  incidental  occurrences,  which  gives  such  life  and 
reality  to  eloquence.  He  is  at  times,  in  the  highest 
sense,  dramatic  in  his  manner. 

Chrysostom,  like  all  the  more  ardent  spirits  of  his 

1  Compare  the  several  lives  of  Chry.^ostom  by  Palladius,  that  in  the  Bene 
dictine  edition  of  his  works,  and  in  Tillemont.  I  have  only  the  first  volume 
of  Neander's  Joannes  Chrysostomus.    The  second  has  f  ince  appeared. 


Chap.  IX  LIFE  OF  CHRYSOSTOM.  123 

age,  was  enamoured  in  his  early  youth  of  monasticism. 
But  this  he  had  gradually  thrown  off,  even  while  he 
remained  at  Antioch.  Though  by  no  means  formally 
abandoning  these  principles,  or  lowering  his  admira- 
tion of  this  imaginary  perfection  of  religion,  in  his 
later  works  he  is  more  free,  popular,  and  practical. 
His  ambition  is  not  so  much  to  elevate  a  few  enthusi- 
astic spirits  to  a  high-toned  and  mystic  piety,  as  to 
impregnate  the  whole  population  of  a  great  capital 
with  Christian  virtue  and  self-denial. 

John,  who  obtained  the  name  of  Chrysostom,  the 
golden-mouthed,  was  born  at  Antioch,  about  Life  of 
the  year  347.  He  was  brought  up  by  his  Chrysostom. 
mother  in  the  Christian  faith ;  he  studied  rhetoric 
under  the  celebrated  Libanius,  who  used  his  utmost 
arts,  and  displayed  all  that  is  captivating  in  Grecian 
poetry  and  philosophy,  to  enthrall  the  imagination  of 
his  promising  pupil.  Libanius,  in  an  extant  epistle, 
rejoices  at  the  success  of  Chrysostom  at  the  bar  in 
Antioch.  He  is  said  to  have  lamented  on  his  death- 
bed the  sacrilegious  seduction  of  the  young  orator  by 
the  Christians  ;  for  to  Chrysostom  he  had  intended  to 
bequeath  his  school  and  the  office  of  maintaining  the 
dignity  of  Paganism. 

But  the  eloquence  of  Chrysostom  was  not  to  waste 
itself  in  the  barren  litigations  of  the  courts  of  justice 
in  Antioch,  or  in  the  vain  attempt  to  infuse  new  life 
into  the  dead  philosophy  and  religion  of  Greece.  He 
felt  himself  summoned  to  a  nobler  field.  At  the  age 
of  eighteen,  Chrysostom  began  to  study  that  one 
source  of  eloquence  to  which  the  human  heart  re- 
sponded, —  the  sacred  writings  of  the  Christians.  The 
church  was  not  slow  in  recognizing  the  value  of  such 
a  proselyte.     He   received  the   strongest  encourage- 


124  LIFE  OF   CHRYSOSTOM.  Book  III. 

ment  from  Meletius,  Bishop  of  Antioch ;  he  was  ap- 
pointed a  reader  in  the  church.  But  the  soul  of 
Chrysostom  was  not  likely  to  embrace  these  stirring 
tenets  with  coolness  or  moderation.  A  zealous  friend 
inflamed,  by  precept  and  emulation,  the  fervor  of 
liis  piety:  they  proposed  to  retire  to  one  of  the 
most  remote  hermitages  in  Syria ;  and  the  great  Chris- 
tian orator  was  almost  self-doomed  to  silence,  or  to 
exhaust  his  power  of  language  in  prayers  and  ejacula- 
tions heard  by  no  human  ear.  The  mother  of  Chry- 
sostom saved  the  Christian  Church  from  this  fatal  loss. 
There  is  something  exquisitely  touching  in  the  traits 
of  domestic  affection  which  sometimes  gleam  through 
the  busy  pages  of  history.  His  mother  had  become 
a  widow  at  the  age  of  twenty ;  to  the  general  admira- 
tion, she  had  remained  faithful  to  the  memory  of  her 
husband  and  to  her  maternal  duties.  As  soon  as  she 
heard  the  determination  of  her  son  to  retire  to  a  dis- 
tant region  (Chrysostom  himself  relates  the  incident), 
she  took  him  by  the  hand,  she  led  him  to  her  chamber, 
she  made  him  sit  by  her  on  the  bed  in  which  she  had 
borne  him,  and  burst  out  into  tears  and  into  language 
more  sad  than  tears.  She  spoke  of  the  cares  and 
troubles  of  widowhood ;  grievous  as  they  had  been, 
she  had  ever  one  consolation,  —  the  gazing  on  his  face, 
and  beholding  in  him  the  image  of  his  departed  father. 
Before  he  could  speak,  he  had  thus  been  her  comfort 
and  her  joy.  She  reminded  him  of  the  fidelity  with 
which  she  had  administered  the  paternal  property. 
"  Think  not  that  I  would  reproach  you  with  these 
things.  I  have  but  one  favor  to  entreat,  —  make  me 
not  a  second  time  a  widow ;  awaken  not  again  my 
slumbering  sorrows.  Wait,  at  least,  for  my  death: 
perhaps  I  shall  depart  before  long.     When  you  have 


Chap.  IX.  LIFE   OF   CHRYSOSTOM.  125 

laid  me  in  the  earth,  and  re-united  my  bones  to  those 
of  your  father,  then  travel  wherever  thou  wilt,  even 
beyond  the  sea ;  but,  as  long  as  I  live,  endure  to  dwell 
in  my  house,  and  offend  not  Grod  by  afflicting  your 
mother,  who  is  at  least  blameless  towards  thee."^ 

Whether  released  by  the  death  of  his  mother,  or 
hurried  away  by  the  irresistible  impulse  which  would 
not  allow  him  to  withhold  himself  from  what  he  calls 
"  the  true  philosophy,"  Chrysostom,  some  years  after- 
wards, entered  into  one  of  the  monasteries  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Antioch.  He  had  hardly  escaped 
the  episcopal  dignity,  which  was  almost  forced  upon 
him  by  the  admirers  of  his  early  piety.  Whether  he 
considered  this  gentle  violence  lawful  to  compel  devout 
Christians  to  assume  awful  dignity,  he  did  not  hesitate 
to  practise  a  pious  fraud  on  his  friend  Basilius,  with 
whom  he  promised  to  submit  to  consecration.  Basilius 
found  himself  a  bishop,  but  looked  in  vain  for  his 
treacherous  friend  who  had  deceived  him  into  this 
momentous  step,  but  deserted  him  at  the  appointed 
hour. 

But  the  voice  of  Chrysostom  was  not  doomed  to 
silence  even  in  his  seclusion.  The  secession  of  so 
many  of  the  leading  youths  from  the  duties  of  civil 
life,  from  the  municipal  offices  and  the  service  of  the 
army,  had  awakened  the  jealousy  of  the  Government. 
Yalens  issued  his  edict  against  those  "  followers  of 
idleness."^  The  monks  were,  in  some  instances,  as- 
sailed by  popular  outrage ;  parents,  against  whose 
approbation  their  children  had  deserted  their  homes 
and  retired  into  the  desert,  appealed  to  the  imperial 

1  M.  Villemain,  in  his  Essai  sur  I'Eloquence  Chr^tienne  dans  le  Quatrieme 
Si6cle,  lias  pointed  out  the  exquisite  simplicity  and  tenderness  of  this  pass- 
age. —  De  Sacerdotio,  i. 

2  Ignaviae  sectatores. 


126  LIFE  OF  CHKYSOSTOM.  Book  III 

authority  to  maintain  their  own.  Chrysostom  came 
forward  as  the  zealous,  the  vehement  advocate  of  the 
"  true  philosophy."  ^  He  threatened  misery  in  this 
life,  and  all  the  pains  of  hell  (of  which  he  is  prodigal 
in  his  early  writings)  against  the  unnatural,  the  soul- 
slaying  fathers,  who  forced  their  sons  to  expose  them- 
selves to  the  guilt  and  danger  of  the  world,  and 
forhade  them  to  enter  into  the  earthly  society  of 
angels:  by  this  phrase  he  describes  the  monasteries 
near  Antioch.  He  relates,  with  triumph,  the  clan- 
destine conversion  of  a  noble  youth,  through  the  con- 
nivance of  his  mother,  whom  the  father,  himself  a 
soldier,  had  destined  to  serve  in  the  armies  of  the 
empire. 

But  Chrysostom  himself,  whether  he  considered 
that  the  deep  devotion  of  the  monastery  for  some  years 
had  braced  his  soul  to  encounter  the  more  perilous 
duties  of  the  priesthood,  appeared  again  in  Antioch. 
His  return  was  hailed  by  Flavianus,  the  bishop,  who 
had  succeeded  to  Meletius.  He  was  ordained  deacon, 
and  then  presbyter,  and  at  once  took  his  station  in 
that  office,  which  was  sometimes  reserved  for  the 
bishop,  as  the  principal  preacher  in  that  voluptuous 
and  effeminate  city. 

The  fervid  imagination  and  glowing  eloquence  of 
Chrysostom,  which  had  been  lavished  on  the  angelic 
immunity  of  the  coenobite  or  the  hermit  from  the 
passions,  ambition,  and  avarice  inseparable  from  a 
secular  life,  now  arrayed  his  new  office  in  a  dignity 
and  saintly  perfection,  which  might  awake  the  purest 
ambition  of  the  Christian.  Chrysostom  has  the  most 
exalted  notion  of  the  majesty,  at  the  same  time  of  the 
severity,  of  the  sacerdotal  character.     His  views  of 

1  Adversus  Oppugnatores  Vitas  Mouasticae. 


Chap.  IX.  LIFE  OF   CHRYSOSTO::.  127 

the  office,  of  its  mission  and  authority,  arc  the  most 
sublime ;  his  demands  upon  their  purity,  blameless 
ness,  and  superiority  to  the  rest  of  mankind,  propor 
tionably  rigorous.^ 

Nor,  in  the  loftiness  of  his  tone  as  a  preacher  or  his 
sanctity  as  a  man,  did  he  fall  below  his  own  standard 
of  the  Christian  priesthood.  His  preaching  already 
took  its  peculiar  character.  It  was  not  so  much  ad- 
dressed to  the  opinions  as  to  the  conscience  of  man. 
He  threw  aside  the  subtleties  of  speculative  theology, 
and  repudiated,  in  general,  the  fine-drawn  allegory  in 
which  the  interpreters  of  Scripture  had  displayed 
their  ingenuity,  and  amazed  and  fruitlessly  wearied 
their  unimproved  audience.  His  scope  was  plain, 
severe,  practical.  Rigidly  orthodox  in  his  doctrine, 
he  seemed  to  dwell  more  on  the  fruits  of  a  pure 
theology  (though  at  times  he  could  not  keep  aloof 
from  controversy)  than  on  theology  itself. 

If,  in  her  ordinary  course  of  voluptuous  amusement, 
of  constant  theatrical  excitement,  Antioch  could  not 
but  listen  to  the  commanding  voice  of  the  Christian 
orator,  it  is  no  wonder  that  in  her  hour  of  danger, 
possibly  of  impending  ruin,  the  whole  city  stood 
trembling  and  awe-struck  beneath  his  pulpit.  Soon 
after  he  had  assumed  the  sacerdotal  office,  Chrysostom 
was  placed  in  an  extraordinary  position  as  the  repre- 
sentative of  the  bishop. 

In  one  of  those  sudden  tumultuous  insurrections 
which  take  place  among  the  populace  of  large 
cities,  Antioch  had  resisted  the  exorbitant 
demands  of  a  new  taxation,  maltreated  the  imperial 
officers,  and  thrown  down  and  dragged  about,  with 
every  kind  of  insult,  the  statues  of  Theodosius,  his 

1  The  treatise,  De  Sacerdotio,  ^a^ssiw 


128  LIFE  OF  CHRYSOSTOM.  Book  III. 

empress,  and  their  two  sons.^  The  stupor  of  fear 
succeeded  to  this  momentary  outbreak  of  mutiny, 
which  had  been  quelled  by  a  single  troop  of  archers. 
For  days  the  whole  people  awaited  in  shuddering 
agitation  the  sentence  of  the  emperor.  The  anger  of 
Theodosius  was  terrible ;  he  had  not  3^et,  it  is  true, 
ordered  the  massacre  of  the  whole  population  of 
Thessalonica,  but  his  stern  and  relentless  character 
was  too  well  known.  Dark  rumors  spread  abroad 
that  he  had  threatened  to  burn  Antioch,  to  exterminate 
its  inhabitants,  and  to  pass  the  ploughshare  over  its 
ruins.  Multitudes  fled  destitute  from  the  city  ;  others 
remained  shut  up  in  their  houses,  for  fear  of  being 
seized.  Instead  of  the  forum  crowded  with  thousands, 
one  or  two  persons  were  seen  timidly  wandering  about. 
The  gay  and  busy  Antioch  liad  the  appearance  of  a 
captured  and  depopulated  city.  The  theatres,  the 
circus,  were  closed  ;  no  marriage-song  ,  was  heard  ; 
even  the  schools  were  shut  up.^  In  the  mean  time 
the  Government  resumed  its  unlimited  and  unresisted 
authority,  which  it  administered  with  the  sternest 
severity  and  rigorous  inquisition  into  the  guilt  of 
individuals.  The  prisons  were  thronged  with  crimi- 
nals of  every  rank  and  station ;  confiscation  swept 
away  their  wealth,  punishments  of  every  degree  were 
inflicted  on  their  persons.  Citizens  of  the  highest 
rank  were  ignominiously  scourged ;    those  who  con- 

1  It  is  curious  to  obsen^e  the  similarity  between  the  Pagan  and  Christian 
accounts  of  this  incident,  which  Ave  have  the  good  fortune  to  possess.  Both 
ascribe  the  guilt  to  a  few  strangers,  under  the  instigation  of  diabolic  agency 
TocovTOig  inxripETaiC  6  KaKog  ;\;pw/z£VOf  (Mfxiov,  ercpa^ev,  a  oiunuv  ejSov/idfiV^. 
This  is  a  sentence  of  Libanius  (ad  Theodos.  iv.  p.  638),  not  of  Chrysostoin. 
Flavianus  exhorts  Theodosius  to  pardon  Antioch,  in  order  that  he  may  disap- 
point the  malice  of  the  devils,  to  whom  he  ascribes  the  guilt.  —  Chrys.  Horn, 
xvi.  ad  Antioch. 

2  Liban.  ad  Theod.,  infin. 


Chap.  IX.  FLAVIANUS.  '  129 

fessed  tlieir  guilt  were  put  to  the  sword,  burned  alive, 
or  thrown  to  the  wild  beasts.^  Chrysostom's  descrip- 
tion of  the  agony  of  those  days  is  in  the  highest  style 
of  dramatic  oratory.  Women  of  the  highest  rank, 
brought  up  with  the  utmost  delicacy  and  accustomed 
to  every  luxury,  were  seen  crowding  around  the  gates. 
or  in  the  outer  judgment  hall,  unattended,  repelled  by 
the  rude  soldiery,  but  still  clinging  to  the  doors  or 
prostrate  on  the  ground,  listening  to  the  clash  of  the 
scourges,  the  shrieks  of  the  tortured  victims,  and  the 
shouts  of  the  executioners ;  one  minute  supposing 
that  they  recognized  the  familiar  voices  of  fathers, 
husbands,  or  brothers ;  or  trembling  lest  those  who 
were  undergoing  torture  should  denounce  their  rela- 
tives and  friends.  Chrysostom  passes  from  this  scene, 
by  a  bold  but  natural  transition,  to  the  terrors  of  the 
final  Judgment,  and  the  greater  agony  of  that  day. 

Now  was  the  time  to  put  to  the  test  the  power  of 
Christianity,  and  to  ascertain  whether  the  orthodox 
opinions  of  Theodosius  were  altogether  independent 
of  that  humanity  which  is  the  essence  of  the  Gospel. 
Would  the  Christian  emperor  listen  to  the  persuasive 
supplications  of  the  Christian  prelate,  —  that  prelate 
for  whose  character  he  had  expressed  the  highest 
respect  ? 

While  Flavianus,  the  aged  and  feeble  bishop,  quitting 
the  bedside  of  his  dying  sister,  set  forth  on  piavianus 
his  pious  mission  to  the  West,  on  Chrysostom  '^*'  ^'"'■^^  ^"^ 


intercede  for 
mercv. 


devolved  the  duty  of  assuaging  the  fears,  of 
administering  consolation,  and  of  profiting  by  this 
state  of  stupor  and  dejection  to  correct  the  vices  and 
enforce  serious  thoughts  upon  the  light  and  dissolute 

1  Chrj'sostom  asserts  this  in  a  fine  passage,  in  which  he  reminds  his  hear- 
ers of  their  greater  oflfences  against  God.  Kal  ol  fiev  aidripu,  ol  6e  nvpl,  ol 
6e  ■driploig  Trapadodhreg  a-nCikovro.  —  Horn.  iii.  6,  p.  45. 

VOL.  III.  9 


130  SENTENCE  OF   THEODOSIUS.  Book  III. 

people.  Day  after  day  he  ascended  the  pulpit;  the 
whole  population,  deserting  the  forum,  forgetting  the 
theatre  and  the  circus,  thronged  the  churches.  There 
was  even  an  attendance  (an  unusual  circumstance) 
after  the  hour  of  dinner.  The  whole  city  became  a 
church.  There  is  wonderful  skill  and  judgment  in  the 
art  with  which  the  orator  employs  the  circumstances 
of  the  time  for  his  purpose ;  in  the  manner  in  which 
he  allays  the  terror,  without  too  highly  encouraging 
the  hopes,  of  the  people  :  "  The  clemency  of  the  empe- 
ror may  forgive  their  guilt,  but  the  Christians  ought  to 
be  superior  to  the  fear  of  death ;  they  cannot  be  secure 
of  pardon  in  this  world,  but  they  may  be  secure  of  im- 
mortality in  the  world  to  come." 

Long  before  the  success  of  the  bishop's  intercession 
Sentence  of  couM  be  kuowu,  tlic  dclcgatcs  of  thc  empe- 
Theodosius.  ^^^^  Hellabichus  and  C^sarius,  arrived  with 
the  sentence  of  Theodosius,  which  was  merciful,  if 
compared  with  what  they  had  feared,  —  the  destruction 
of  the  city,  and  the  massacre  of  its  inhabitants.  But 
it  was  fatal  to  the  pleasures,  the  comforts,  the  pride 
of  Antioch.  The  theatres  and  the  circus  were  to  be 
closed  ;  Antioch  was  no  longer  to  enjoy  theatrical  rep- 
resentations of  any  kind  ;  the  baths,  in  an  Eastern  city 
not  objects  of  luxury  alone,  but  of  cleanliness  and 
health,  were  to  be  shut;  and  Antioch  was  degraded 
from  the  rank  of  a  metropolitan  city,  to  a  town  under 
the  jurisdiction  of  Laodicea. 

The  city  was  in  the  deepest  depression,  but  Chry- 
sostom  maintained  his  lofty  tone  of  consolation. 
Antioch  ought  to  rejoice  at  the  prohibition  of  those 
scenes  of  vice  and  dissipation  which  disgraced  the 
theatres :  the  baths  tended  to  effeminacy  and  luxury, 
they  were  disdained  by  true  philosophy,  —  the  monas- 


Chap.  IX.  INTERVIEW   OF  FLAVIANUS.  131 

tic  system ;  the  dignity  of  the  city  did  not  depend  on 
its  rank  in  the  empire,  but  on  the  virtue  of  its  citizens  ; 
it  might  be  a  heavenly,  if  no  longer  an  earthly,  me- 
tropolis. 

The  inquisition  into  the  guilt  of  those  who  had 
actually  assisted,  or  had  looked  on  in  treasonable  indif- 
ference, while  the  statues  of  the  emperor  and  his 
family  were  treated  with  such  unseemly  contumely, 
had  commenced  under  the  regular  authorities  :  it  was 
now  carried  on  with  stern  and  indiscriminate  impar- 
tiality. The  prisoners  were  crowded  together  in  a 
great  open  enclosure,  in  one  close  and  agonizing  troop, 
which  comprehended  the  whole  senate  of  the  city. 
The  third  day  of  the  inquiry  was  to  witness  the  execu- 
tion of  the  guilty  ;  and  no  one,  not  the  relatives  or  kin- 
dred of  the  wealthiest,  the  noblest,  or  the  highest  in 
station,  knew  whether  the  doom  had  not  fallen  on  their 
fathers  or  husbands. 

But  Hellabichus  and  Caesarius  were  men  of  human- 
ity, and  ventured  to  suspend  the  execution  of  the  sen- 
tence. They  listened  to  the  supplications  of  the  people. 
One  mother,  especially,  seized  and  clung  to  the  reins 
of  the  horse  of  Hellabichus.  The  monks  who,  while 
the  philosophers,  as  Chrysostom  asserts,  had  fled  the 
city,  had  poured  down  from  their  mountain  solitudes, 
and  during  the  whole  time  had  endeavored  to  assuage 
the  fear  of  the  people,  and  to  awaken  the  compassion 
of  the  Government,  renewed,  not  without  effect,  their 
pious  exertions.^  They  crowded  round  the  tribunal, 
and  one,  named  Macedonius,  was  so  courageous  as 
boldly  to  remonstrate  against  the  crime  of  avenging 
the  destruction  of  a  few  images  of  brass  by  the  des- 
truction of  the  image  of  God  in  so  many  human  beings. 

1  Chrysostom,  Horn.  xvii.  vol.  ii.  p.  172 


132  INTERVIEW  OF  FLAVIANUS.  Book  IE 

Caesarius  himself  undertook  a  journey  to  Constantino- 
ple for  farther  instructions. 

At  length  Chrysostom  had  the  satisfaction  to  an- 
nounce to  the  people  the  return  of  the  bishop 
interview  of    with  au  act  of  Unlimited  amnesty.     He  de- 

Flavianus  ♦' 

with  the        scribed  the  interview  of  Flavianus  with  the 

emperor. 

emperor ;  his  silence,  his  shame,  his  tears, 
when  Theodosius  gently  reminded  him  of  his  benefac- 
tions to  the  city  which  enhanced  their  heinous  ingrati- 
tude. The  reply  of  Flavianus,  though  the  orator 
professes  to  relate  it  on  the  authority  of  one  present  at 
the  interview,  is  no  doubt  colored  by  the  eloquence  of 
Chrysostom.  The  bishop  acknowledged  the  guilt 
of  the  city  in  the  most  humiliating  language.  But  he 
urged,  that,  the  greater  that  guilt,  the  greater  would  be 
the  magnanimity  of  the  emperor  if  he  should  pardon 
it.  He  would  raise  statues,  not  of  perishable  mate- 
rials, in  the  hearts  of  all  mankind.  It  is  not  the  glory 
of  Theodosius,  he  proceeded,  but  Christianity  itself, 
which  is  put  to  the  test  before  the  world.  The  Jews 
and  Greeks,  even  the  most  remote  barbarians,  are 
anxiously  watching  whether  this  sentence  will  be  that 
of  Christian  clemency.  How  will  they  all  glorify  the 
Christian's  God  if  he  shall  restrain  the  wrath  of  the 
master  of  the  world,  and  subdue  him  to  that  humanity 
which  would  be  magnanimous  even  in  a  private  man  I 
Inexorable  punishment  might  awe  other  cities  into 
obedience,  but  mercy  would  attach  mankind  by  the 
stronger  bonds  of  love.  It  would  be  an  imperishable 
example  of  clemency ;  and  all  future  acts  of  other  sov- 
ereigns would  be  but  the  fruit  of  this,  and  would 
reflect  their  glory  on  Theodosius.  What  glory  to  con- 
cede that  to  a  single  aged  priest,  from  the  fear  of  God, 
which  he  had  refused  to  all  other  suppliants !     For 


Chap.  IX.  CHRYSOSTOM.  133 

himself,  Flavianus  could  never  bear  to  return  to  his 
native  city ;  he  would  remain  an  exile,  until  that  city 
was  reconciled  with  the  emperor.  Theodosius,  it  is 
said,  called  to  mind  the  prayer  of  the  Saviour  for  his 
enemies,  and  satisfied  his  wounded  pride  that  in  his 
mercy  he  imitated  his  Redeemer.  He  was  even  anx- 
ious that  Flavianus  should  return  to  announce  the  full 
pardon  before  the  festival  of  Easter.  "  Let  the  Gen- 
tiles, "  exclaims  the  ardent  preacher,  "  be  confounded, 
or,  rather,  let  them  be  instructed  by  this  unexampled 
instance  of  imperial  clemency  and  episcopal  influ- 
ence. "  ^ 

Theodosius  had  ceased  to  reign  many  years  before 
Chrysostom  was  summoned  to  the  pontifical  a.d.  398. 
throne  of  Constantinople.  The  East  was  now  Bis^oTof"^' 
governed  by  women  and  eunuchs.  In  assum-  tinopie. 
ing  the  episcopal  throne  of  the  metropolis,  to  which  he 
is  said  to  have  been  transported  almost  by  force, 
Chrysostom,  who  could  not  but  be  conscious  of  his 
power  over  the  minds  of  men,  might  entertain  visions 
of  the  noblest  and  purest  ambition.  His  views  of  the 
dignity  of  the  sacerdotal  character  were  as  lofty  as 
those  of  his  contemporaries  in  the  West:  while  he 
asserted  their  authority,  which  set  them  apart  and  far 
above  the  rest  of  mankind,  he  demanded  a  moral 
superiority  and  entire  devotion  to  their  calling,  which 
could  not  but  rivet  their  authority  upon  the  minds  of 
men.  The  clergy,  such  as  his  glowing  imagination 
conceived  them,  would  unite  the  strongest  corporate 
spirit  with  the  highest  individual  zeal  and  purity.  The 
influence  of  the  bishop  in  Antioch,  the  deference  which 
Theodosius  had  shown  to  the   intercession   of  Flavi- 

1  Chrysostom  hau  ventured  to  assert,  'Avrep  ovdevl  erepu,  ravra  X*^^ 
tlTCU  Toig  iepevat.  —  Horn.  xxi.  3. 


134  CHRYSOSTOM'S   CHARACTER.  Book  IH. 

anus,  might  encourage  Chrysostom  in  the  fallacious 
hope  of  restoring  peace,  virtue,  and  piety,  as  well  as 
orthodoxy,  in  the  imperial  city. 

But  in  the  East,  more  particularly  in  the  metropolis. 
Difference  "^^^^  saccrdotal  cliaractcr  never  assumed  the 
dotSpoweT  unassailable  sanctity,  the  awful  inviolability, 
coSiSi'tr*^  which  it  attained  in  the  West.  The  religion 
nopie.  ^£  Constantinople  was  that  of  the  emperor. 

Instead  of  growing  up,  like  the  Bishop  of  Rome,  first 
to  independence,  afterwards  to  sovereignty,  the  reli- 
gious supremacy  was  overawed  and  obscured  by  the 
presence  of  the  Imperial  Government.  In  Rome,  the 
pope  was  subject  at  times  to  the  rebellious  control  of 
the  aristocracy,  or  exposed  to  the  irreverent  fury  of  the 
populace ;  but  he  constantly  emerged  from  his  tran- 
sient obscurity  and  resumed  his  power.  In  Constan- 
tinople, a  voluptuous  court,  a  savage  populace,  at  this 
period  multitudes  of  concealed  Arians,  and  heretics  of 
countless  shades  and  hues  at  all  periods,  thwarted  the 
plans,  debased  the  dignity,  and  desecrated  the  person 
of  the  Patriarch  of  Constantinople. 

In  some  respects,  Chrysostom' s  character  wanted  the 
peculiar  and  perhaps  inconsistent  qualifications  requi- 
site for  his  position.  He  was  the  preacher,  but  not 
the  man  of  the  world.  A  great  capital  is  apt  to  de- 
mand that  magnificence  in  its  prelate  at  which  it 
murmurs.  It  will  not  respect  less  than  splendid  state 
and  the  show  of  authority,  while  at  the  same  time  it 
would  have  the  severest  austerity  and  the  strongest 
display  of  humility,  —  the  pomp  of  the  pontiff  with 
the  poverty  and  lowliness  of  the  apostle.  Chrysostom 
carried  the  asceticism  of  the  monk  not  merely  into  his 
private  chamber,  but  into  his  palace  and  his  hall.  The 
great  prelates  of  the  West,  when  it  was  expedient, 


Chap.  IX.    POLITICAL  DIFFICULTIES  OF  CHRYSOSTOM.        135 

could  throw  off  the  monk,  and  appear  as  statesmen  or 
as  nobles  in  then'  public  transactions  ;  though  this,  in- 
deed, was  much  less  necessary  than  in  Constantinople. 
But  Chrysostom  cherished  all  these  habits  with  zeal 
ous,  perhaps  with  ostentatious,  fidelity.  Instead  of 
munificent  hospitality,  he  took  his  scanty  meal  in  his 
solitary  chamber.  His  rigid  economy  endured  none 
of  that  episcopal  sumptuousness  with  which  his  prede- 
cessor Nectarius  had  dazzled  the  public  eye :  he  pro- 
scribed all  the  carpets,  all  the  silken  dresses ;  he  sold 
the  costly  furniture  and  the  rich  vessels  of  his  resi- 
dence ;  he  was  said  even  to  have  retrenched  from  the 
church  some  of  its  gorgeous  plate,  and  to  have  sold 
some  rich  marbles  and  furniture  designed  for  the 
Anastasia.  He  was  lavish,  on  the  other  hand,  in  his 
expenditure  on  the  hospitals  and  charitable  institutions. 
But  even  the  uses  to  which  they  were  applied,  did  not 
justify  to  the  general  feeling  the  alienation  of  those 
ornaments  from  the  service  of  the  church.  The  popu- 
lace,  who,  no  doubt,  in  their  hours  of  discontent,  had 
contrasted  the  magnificence  of  Nectarius  with  apos- 
tolical poverty,  were  now  offended  by  the  apostolical 
poverty  of  Chrysostom,  which  seemed  unworthy  of  his 
lofty  station. 

But  the  Bishop  of  Constantinople  had  even  a  more 
difficult  task  in  prescribing  to  himself  the 
limits  of  his  interference  with  secular  affairs,  difficulties  of 
It  is  easy  to  imagine,  in  the  clergy,  a  high 
and  serene  indifference  to  the  political   tumults   of 
society.     This  is  perpetually  demanded  by  interference 
those  who  find  the  sacerdotal  influence  ad-  ^l  sSu?i"^^ 
verse  to  their  own  views ;  but  to  the  calm  ^^^^'^^' 
inquirer,  this  simple  question  becomes  tlie  most  diffi- 
cult and  intricate  problem  in  religious  history.     K 


136        INTERFERENCE  OF  THE  CLERGY     Book  III. 

religion  consisted  solely  in  the  intercourse  between 
man  and  liis  Creator ;  if  the  Christian  minister  were 
merely  the  officiating  functionary  in  the  ceremonial  of 
the  Church,  the  human  mediator  between  the  devo- 
tion of  man  and  the  providence  of  Grod,  the  voice 
which  expresses  the  common  adoration,  the  herald 
who  announces  the  gracious  message  of  revelation  ta 
mankind,  —  nothing  could  be  more  clear  than  the  line 
which  might  exclude  him  from  all  political,  or  even 
all  worldly  affairs.  But  Christianity  is  likewise  a 
moral  power ;  and,  as  that  moral  power  or  guide,  re- 
ligion, and  the  minister  of  religion,  cannot  refrain  from 
interposing  in  all  questions  of  human  conduct ;  as  the 
interpreter  of  the  divine  law  to  the  perplexed  and 
doubting  conscience,  it  cannot  but  spread  its  dominion 
over  the  whole  field  of  human  action.  In  this  char- 
acter, religion  embraced  the  whole  life  of  man,  public 
as  well  as  private.  How  was  the  minister  of  that 
religion  to  pause  and  discriminate  as  to  the  extent  of 
his  powers,  particularly  since  the  public  acts  of  the 
most  eminent  in  station  possessed  such  unlimited  in- 
fluence over  the  happiness  of  society  and  even  the 
eternal  welfare  of  the  whole  community?  What 
public  misconduct  was  not  at  the  same  time  an  un- 
christian act?  Were  the  clergy,  by  connivance,  to 
become  accomplices  in  vices  which  they  did  not  en- 
deavor to  counteract  ?  Christianity  on  the  throne,  as 
in  the  cottage,  was  equally  bound  to  submit  on  every 
point  in  which  religious  motive  or  principle  ought  to 
operate,  in  every  act,  therefore,  of  life,  to  the  admitted 
restraints  of  the  Gospel ;  and  the  general  feeling  of 
Christianity  at  this  period  had  invested  the  clergy  with 
the  right,  or  rather  the  duty,  of  enforcing  the  precepts 
of  the  Gospel  on  every  professed  believer.     How,  then, 


Chap.  IX.  IN  SECULAR  AFFAIRS.  137 

were  the  clergy  to  distinguish  between  the  individual 
and  political  capacity  of  the  man ;  to  respect  the 
prince,  yet  to  advise  the  Christian ;  to  look  with  in- 
difference on  one  set  of  actions  as  secular,  to  admonish 
on  the  danger  of  another  as  affairs  of  conscience  ? 

Nor  at  this  early  period  of  its  still  aggressive,  still 
consciously  beneficial  influence,  could  the  hierarchy  be 
expected  to  anticipate  with  coldly  prophetic  prudence 
the  fatal  consequence  of  some  of  its  own  encroach- 
ments on  worldly  authority.  The  bishop  of  a  great 
capital  was  the  conductor,  the  representative,  of  the 
moral  power  of  the  Gospel,  which  was  perpetually 
striving  to  obtain  its  ascendency  over  brute  force, 
violence,  and  vice ;  and  of  necessity,  perhaps,  was  not 
always  cautious  or  discreet  in  the  means  to  whicii  it 
resorted.  It  became  contaminated  in  the  incessant 
strife,  and  forgot  its  end,  or  rather  sought  for  the 
mastery  as  its  end,  rather  than  as  the  legitimate 
means  of  promoting  its  beneficial  objects.  Under  the 
full,  and  no  doubt,  at  first,  warrantable  persuasion, 
that  it  was  advancing  the  happiness  and  virtue  of 
mankind,  where  should  it  arrest  its  own  course,  or  set 
limits  to  its  own  humanizing  and  improving  inter- 
positions ?  Thus,  under  the  constant  temptation  of 
assuming,  as  far  as  possible,  the  management  of  affairs 
which  were  notoriously  mismanaged  through  the  vices 
of  public  men,  the  administration  even  of  public 
matters  by  the  clergy  might  seem,  to  them  at  least, 
to  insure  justice,  disinterestedness,  and  clemency. 
Till  tried  by  the  possession  of  power,  they  would  be 
the  last  to  discern  the  danger  of  being  invested  in 
that  power. 

The  first  signal  interposition  of  Chrysostom  in  the 
political   affairs   of   Constantinople,   was   an  act   not 


138  RIGHT  OF  ASYLUM.  Book  III. 

merely  of  humanity,  but  of  gratitude.     Eutropius  the 
eunuch,  minister  of  the  feeble  Arcadius,  is 

Eutropius  '  ' 

the  eunuch,  condemned  to  immortal  infamy  by  the  vigor- 
ous satire  of  Claudian.  Among  his  few  good  deeds, 
had  been  the  advancement  of  Chrysostom  to  the  see  of 
Constantinople.  Eutropius  had  found  it  necessary  to 
rest] let  the  right  of  asylum,  which  began  to  be  gen- 
erally claimed  by  all  the  Christian  churches ;  little 
foreseeing  that  to  the  bold  assertion  of  that  right  he 
would  owe  his  life. 

There  is  something  sublime  in  the  first  notion  of 
the  right  of  asylum.  It  is  one  of  those  institutions 
based  in  the  universal  religious  sentiment  of  man  ;  it 
Ri-htof  is  found  in  almost  all  religions.  In  the 
asylum.  Q-j-eek,  as  in  the  Jewish,  man  took  refuge 
from  the  vengeance,  often  from  the  injustice,  of  his 
fellow-men,  in  the  presence  of  the  gods.  Not  merely 
private  revenge,  but  the  retributive  severity  of  the 
law,  stands  rebuked  before  the  dignity  of  the  divine 
court,  in  which  the  criminal  has  lodged  his  appeal. 
The  lustrations  in  the  older  religions,  the  rites  of  ex- 
piation and  reconciliation  performed  in  many  of  the 
temples,  the  appellations  of  certain  deities,  as  the 
reconcilers  or  pacifiers  of  man,^  were  inwoven  with 
their  mythology,  and  embodied  in  their  poetry.  But 
Christianity,  in  a  still  higher  and  more  universal 
sense,  might  assume  to  take  under  its  protection,  in 
order  to  amend  and  purify,  the  outcast  of  society, 
whom  human  justice  followed  with  relentless  ven- 
geance. As  the  representative  of  the  God  of  mercy 
it  excluded  no  human  being  from  the  pale  of  re- 
pentance, and  would  protect  the  worst,  when  disposed 
to  that  salutary  change,  if  it  could  possibly  be  made 

1  The  unoTpoKaioi,  or  averruncatores. 


Chap.  IX.  KIGHT   OF  ASYLUM.  139 

consistent  with  the  public  peace  and  safety.  The 
merciful  intervention  of  the  clergy  between  the  crimi- 
nal and  his  sentence,  at  a  period  when  the  laws  were 
so  implacable  and  sanguinary,  was  at  once  consistent 
with  Christian  charity  and  tended  to  some  mitigation 
of  the  ferocious  manners  of  the  age.  It  gave  time  at 
least  for  exasperated  justice  to  reconsider  its  sentence, 
and  checked  that  vindictive  impulse,  which,  if  it  did 
not  outrun  the  law,  hurried  it  to  instantaneous  and 
irrevocable  execution.^  But  that  which  commenced 
in  pure  benevolence  had  already,  it  should  seem, 
begun  to  degenerate  into  a  source  of  power.  The 
course  of  justice  was  impeded,  bat  not  by  a  wise  dis- 
crimination between  the  more  or  less  heinous  delin- 
quents, or  a  salutary  penitential  system,  which  might 
reclaim  the  guilty  and  safely  restore  him  to  society. 

Like  other  favorites  of  arbitrary  sovereigns,  Entro- 
pius  was  suddenly  precipitated  from  the 
height  of  power.  The  army  forced  the  sen- 
tence of  his  dismissal  from  the  timid  emperor ;  and 
the  furious  populace,  as  usual,  thirsted  for  the  blood 
of  him  to  whose  unbounded  sway  they  had  so  long 
submitted  in  humble  obedience.  Eutropius  fled  in 
haste  to  that  asylum,  the  sanctity  of  which  had  been 
limited  by  his  own  decree ;  and  the  courage  and  in- 
fluence of  Chrysostom  protected  that  most  forlorn  of 

1  In  a  law  -which  is  extant  in  Greek,  there  is  an  elaborate  argument,  that 
if  the  right  of  asylum  had  been  granted  by  the  Heathen  to  their  altars,  and 
to  the  statues  of  the  emperors,  it  ought  to  belong  to  the  temples  of  God. 

See  the  laws  which  detined  the  right  of  asylum.  Cod.  Theodos.  ix.  45,  3, 
ei  seqq.  The  sacred  space  extended  to  the  outer  gates  of  the  church.  But 
those  who  took  refuge  in  the  church  were  on  no  account  to  be  permitted  to 
profiane  the  holy  building  itself  by  eating  or  sleeping  within  it.  "  Quibus  si 
perfuga  non  adnuit,  neque  consentit,  prasferenda  humanitati  religio  est." 
There  was  a  strong  prohibition  against  introducing  arms  into  the  churches, 
—  a  prohibition  which  the  emperors  themselves  did  not  scruple  to  violate  on 
more  than  one  occasion. 


140  CHRYSOSTOM  GOVERNED  Book  IIL 

human  beings,  the  discarded  favorite  of  a  despot. 
The  armed  soldiery  and  the  raging  populace  were  met 
at  the  door  of  the  church  by  the  defenceless  ecclesi- 
astic. His  demeanor  and  the  sanctity  of  the  place 
chrysostom  ^rrcstcd  the  blind  fury  of  the  assailants. 
ufltV^^  Chrysostom  before  the  emperor  pleaded  the 
Eutropius.  cause  of  Eutropius  with  the  same  fearless 
freedom;  and  for  once  the  life  of  a  fallen  minister 
was  spared,  his  sentence  was  commuted  for  banish- 
ment. His  fate,  indeed,  was  only  delayed:  he  was 
afterwards  brought  back  from  Cyprus,  his  place  of 
exile,  and  beheaded  at  Chalcedon. 

But  with  all  his  courage,  his  eloquence,  his  moral 
dignity,  Chrysostom,  instead  of  establishing  a  firm  and 
permanent  authority  over  Constantinople,  became  him- 
self the  victim  of  intrigue  and  jealousy.  Besides  his 
personal  habits  and  manners,  the  character  of  Chry- 
sostom, firm  on  great  occasions  and  eminently  per- 
suasive when  making  a  general  address  to  the  multi- 
tude, was  less  commanding  and  authoritative  in  his 
constant  daily  intercourse  with  the  various  orders. 
Calm  and  self-possessed  as  an  orator,  he  was  accused 
of  being  passionate  and  overbearing  in  ordinary  busi 
ness :  the  irritability  of  feeble  health  may  have  caused 
some  part  of  this  infirmity.  Men,  whose  minds,  like 
that  of  Chrysostom,  are  centred  on  one  engrossing 
object,  are  apt  to  abandon  the  details  of  business  to 
others,  who  thus  become  necessary  to  them,  and  at 
lengtli,  if  artful  and  dexterous,  rule  tliem  with  inextri- 
cable sway :  they  have  much  knowledge  of  mankind, 
little  practical  acquaintance  with  individual  men. 
Chrysostom  Thus,  Chrysostom  was  completely  governed 
hirZtn^  hy  his  deacon  Serapion,  who  managed  his 
rapion.       affai^g^  and  like  all  men  of  address  in  such 


Chap.  IX.  BY  HIS  DEACON  SERAPION.  141 

stations,  while  lie  exercised  all  the  power,  and  secuied 
the  solid  advantages,  left  the  odium  and  responsibility 
upon  his  master.  On  the  whole,  the  character  of 
Chrjsostom  retained  something  of  the  unworldly  mo- 
nastic enthusiasm,  and  wanted  decisive  practical  wis- 
dom, when  compared,  for  instance,  with  Ambrose  in 
the  West ;  and  thus  his  character  poworfiilly  contrib- 
uted to  his  fall.^ 

But  the  circumstances  of  his  situation  might  have 
embarrassed  even  Ambrose  himself.  All  orders  and 
interests  conspired  against  him.  The  court  would  not 
endure  the  grave  and  severe  censor ;  the  clergy  re- 
belled agaiiisi  the  rigor  of  the  prelate's  discipline ;  the 
populace,  though,  when  under  the  spell  of  his  elo- 
quence, fondly  attached  to  his  person,  no  doubt,  in 
general  resented  his  implacable  condemnation  of  their 
amusements.  The  Arians,  to  whom,  in  his  uncom- 
promising zeal,  he  had  persuaded  the  emperor  to 
refuse  a  single  church,  though  demanded  by  the  most 
powerful  subject  of  the  empire,  Gainas  the  Goth,  were 
still  no  doubt  secretly  powerful.  A  Pagan  prefect, 
Optatus,  seized  the  opportunity  of  wreaking  his  ani- 
mosity towards  Christianity  itself  upon  its  powerful 
advocate.  Some  wealthy  females  are  named  as  re- 
senting the  severe  condemnation  of  their  dress  and 
manners. 2 

Of  all  these  adversaries,  the  most  dangerous,  the 
most  persevering,  and  the  most  implacable,  were  those 
of  his  own  order  and  his  own  rank.^     The  sacerdotal 

1  The  unfavorable  view  of  Chrysostom's  character  is  brought  out  perhaps 
with  more  than  impartiality  by  the  ecclesiastical  historian  Sozomen,  who 
wrote  at  Constantinople,  and  may  have  preserved  much  of  the  hostile  tradi- 
tion relating  to  him. 

2  Tillemont,  p.  180. 

3  The  good  Tillemont  confesses  this  humiliating  truth  with  shame  and 
reluctance. — Vie  de  Chrj'-sostome,  p.  181. 


142  THEOPHILUS  OF  ALEXANDRIA.  Book  IH. 

authority  in  the  East  was  undermined  by  its  own 
divisions.  The  imperial  power,  which,  in  the  hands 
of  a  violent  and  not  irreproachable  woman,  the 
empress  Eudoxia,  might,  perhaps,  have  quailed  before 
the  energy  of  a  blameless  and  courageous  prelate, 
allied  itself  with  one  section  of  the  Church,  and  so 
secured  its  triumph  over  the  whole.  The  more  Chry- 
sostom  endeavored  to  carry  out  by  episcopal  authority 
those  exalted  notions  of  the  sacerdotal  character  which 
he  had  developed  in  his  work  upon  the  priesthood, 
the  more  he  estranged  many  of  his  natural  supporters. 
He  visited  the  whole  of  Asia  Minor  ;  degraded  bishops ; 
exposed  with  unsparing  indignation  the  vices  and 
venality  of  the  clergy ;  and  involved  them  all  in  one 
indiscriminate  charge  of  simony  and  licentiousness. 
The  assumption  of  this  authority  was  somewhat  ques- 
tionable: the  severity  with  which  it  was  exercised 
did  not  reconcile  the  reluctant  province  to  submission. 
Among  the  malcontent  clergy,  four  bishops  took  the 
lead ;  but  the  head  of  this  unrelenting  faction  was 
Theophiius  of  Theophilus,  the  violent  and  unscrupulous 
Alexandria,  prelate  of  Alexandria.  The  apparently 
trivial  causes  which  inflamed  the  hostility  of  The- 
ophilus confirm  a  suspicion,  previously  suggested,  that 
the  rivalry  of  the  two  principal  sees  in  the  East 
mingled  with  the  personal  animosity  of  Theophilus 
against  the  Bishop  of  Constantinople.  Chrysostom 
had  been  accused  of  extending  his  jurisdiction  beyond 
its  legitimate  bounds.  Certain  monks  of  Nitria  had 
fled  from  the  persecutions  of  Theophilus,  and  taken 
refuge  in  Constantinople ;  and  Chrysostom  had  ex- 
tended his  countenance,  if  not  his  protection,  to  these 
revolted  subjects  of  the  Alexandrian  prelate.  But  he 
had  declined  to  take  legal  cognizance  of  the  dispute 


Chap.  IX.  COUNCIL  OF  THE  OAK.  143 

as  a  superior  prelate,  or  as  the  head  of  a  council ; 
partly,  he  states,^  out  of  respect  for  Theophilus,  partly 
because  he  was  unwilling  to  interfere  in  the  affairs  of 
another  province.  But  Theophilus  was  not  so  scrupu- 
lous ;  he  revenged  himself  for  the  supposed  invasion 
of  his  own  province  by  a  most  daring  inroad  on  that  of 
his  rival.  He  assumed  for  the  Patriarch  of  Alexan- 
dria the  right  of  presiding  over  the  Eastern  bishops, 
and  of  summoning  the  Bishop  of  Constantinople  before 
this  irregular  tribunal.  Theophilus,  with  the  sanc- 
tion, if  not  by  the  invitation,  of  the  empress,  landed  at 
Constantinople.  He  was  accompanied  by  a  band  of 
Alexandrian  mariners  as  a  protection  against  the 
populace  of  the  city. 

The  council  was  held,  not  in  Constantinople,  but  at 
a  place  called  the  Oak,  in  the  suburb  of  Qo^nciiof 
Chalcedon.  It  consisted  for  the  most  part  *^«<^^- 
of  Egyptian  bishops,  under  the  direct  influence  of 
Theopliilus,  and  of  Asiatic  prelates,  the  personal  ene- 
mies of  Clirysostom.2  For  fourteen  days  it  held  its 
sessions,  and  received  informations,  which  gradually 
grew  into  twenty-nine  grave  and  specific  charges. 
Four  times  was  Chrysostom  summoned  to  appear 
before  this  self-appointed  tribunal,  of  which  it  was 
impossible  for  him  to  recognize  the  legal  authority. 
In  the  mean  time,  he  was  not  inactive  in  his  peculiar 
spliere,  —  the  pulpit.  Unfortunately,  the  authenticity 
of  the  sermon  ascribed  to  him  at  this  period  is  not 
altogether  certain,  nor  the  time  at  which  some  extant 
discourses,  if  genuine,  were  delivered,  conclusively 
settled.  One,  however,  bears  strong  indications  of 
the  manner  and  sentiments  of  Chrysostom ;  and  it  is 

1  Epist.  ad  Innocentium  Papain,  vol.  iii.  p  516. 

2  It  is  contested  whether  there  were  thirty  or  forty-six  bishops. 


1  14  COUNCIL  OF  THE  OAK.  Book  III. 

generally  acknowledged  that  he  either  did  boldly  use, 
or  was  accused  of  using,  language  full  of  contumelious 
allusion  to  the  empress.  This  sermon,  tiierefore,  if 
not  an  accurate  report  of  his  expressions,  may  convey 
the  sense  of  what  he  actually  uttered,  or  which  was 
attributed  to  him  by  his  adversaries.^  "  The  billows," 
said  the  energetic  prelate,  "  are  mighty,  and  the 
storm  furious  ;  but  we  fear  not  to  be  wrecked,  for  we 
are  founded  on  a  rock.  What  can  I  fear  ?  Death  ? 
To  me  to  live  is  Christy  and  to  die  is  gain.  Exile  ? 
The  earth  is  the  Lord^s^  and  the  fulness  thereof. 
Confiscation  ?  We  hroiight  nothing  into  this  world,  and 
it  is  ce7'tain  we  can  carry  nothing  out  of  it.  I  scorn  the 
terrors,  and  smile  at  the  advantages  of  life.  I  fear 
not  death.  I  desire  to  live  only  for  your  profit.  The 
Church  against  which  you  strive,  dashes  away  your 
assaults  into  idle  foam.  It  is  fixed  by  God :  who  shall 
revoke  it  ?  The  Church  is  stronger  than  heaven  itself. 
Heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away,  hut  my  words  shall 
not  pass  away.  .  .  .  But  you  know,  my  brethren, 
the  true  cause  of  my  ruin.  Because  I  have  not  strewn 
rich  carpets  on  my  floors,  nor  clothed  myself  in  silken 
robes ;  because  I  have  discountenanced  the  sensuality 
of  certain  persons.  The  seed  of  the  serpent  is  still 
alive,  but  grace  is  still  on  the  side  of  Elijah."     Then 

1  It  is  singularly  characteristic  of  the  Christianity  of  the  times,  to  observe 
the  charges  against  which  Chrysostom  protests  with  the  greatest  vehemence ; 
and  this  part  of  the  oration  in  question  is  confinned  by  one  of  his  letters  to 
Cyriacus.  Against  that  of  personal  impurity  with  a  female,  he  cahnly  olfers 
the  most  unquestionable  evidence.  But  he  was  likewise  accused  of  having 
administered  baptism  after  he  had  eaten.  On  this  he  breaks  out:  "  If  I  have 
done  this,  Anathema  upon  me !  may  I  be  no  longer  counted  among  bishops, 
iior  be  admitted  among  the  angels  accepted  of  God!  "  He  was  said  to  have 
administered  the  sacrament  to  those  who  had  in  like  manner  broken  their 
fast.  "If  I  have  done  so,  may  I  be  rejected  of  Christ!  "  He  then  justifies 
himself,  even  if  guilty,  by  the  example  of  Paul,  and  even  of  Christ  himself, 
but  still  seems  to  look  on  this  breach  of  discipline  witli  the  utmost  horror. 


Chap.  IX.   CHRYSOSTOM  LEAVES  CONSTANTINOPLE.   145 

follows  in  obscure  and  embarrassed  language,  as 
though,  if  genuine,  the  preacher  were  startled  at  his 
own  boldness,  an  allusion  to  the  fate  of  John  the 
Baptist,  and  to  the  hostility  of  Herodias :  "  It  is  a 
time  of  wailing :  lo,  all  things  tend  to  "  disgrace ; 
but  time  judgeth  all  things."  The  fatal  word, 
"  disgrace^''  (^ddo^ia)  was  supposed  to  be  an  allusion  to 
Eudoxia,  the  empress. 

There  was  a  secret  understanding  between  the  court 
and  the  council.  The  court  urged  the  pro-  condemna- 
ceedings  of  the  council ;  and  the  council  sos°om.  ^ 
pronounced  the  sentence  of  deposition,  but  left  to  the 
court  to  take  cognizance  of  the  darker  charge  of  high 
treason,  of  which  they  asserted  Ohrysostom  to  be 
guilty,  but  which  was  beyond  their  jurisdiction.  The 
alleged  treason  was  the  personal  insult  to  the  empress 
Eudoxia,  which  was  construed  into  exciting  the  people 
to  rebellion.  But  the  execution  of  this  sentence 
embarrassed  the  council  and  the  irresolute  Govern 
ment.  Ohrysostom  now  again  ruled  the  popular  mind 
with  unbounded  sway.  It  would  have  been  dangerous 
to  have  seized  him  in  the  church,  environed,  as  he 
constantly  was,  by  crowds  of  admiring  hearers,  whom 
a  few  fervent  words  might  have  maddened  into  insur- 
rection. 

Ohrysostom,  however,  shrunk,  whether  from  timidity 
or  Christian  peacefulness  of  disposition,  from    chrysostom 

\  n  1         leaves  Con- 

being  the  cause,  even  innocently,  of  tumult  stantinopie. 
and  bloodshed.  He  had  neither  the  ambition,  the  des- 
perate recklessness,  nor  perhaps  the  resolution,  of  a 
demagogue.  He  would  not  be  the  Ohristian  tribune 
of  the  people.  He  seized  the  first  opportunity  of  the 
absence  of  his  hearers  quietly  to  surrender  himself 
to   the  imperial   officers.     He  was   cautiously  trans- 

VOL.  III.  10 


146  RETURN  OF  CHRYSOSTOM.  Book  III. 

ported  by  night,  though  the  jealous  populace  crowded 
the  streets  in  order  to  release  their  prelate  from  the 
hands  of  his  enemie?,  to  the  opposite  side  of  the 
Bosphorus,  and  confined  in  a  villa  on  the  Bithynian 
shore. 

The  triumph  of  Chrysostom's  enemies  was  complete. 
Theophilus  entered  the  city,  and  proceeded  to  wreak 
his  vengeance  on  the  partisans  of  his  adversary ;  the 
empress  rejoiced  in  the  conscious  assurance  of  her 
power;  the  people  were  overawed  into  gloomy  and 
sullen  silence. 

The  night  of  the  following  day,  strange  and  awful 

sounds  were  heard  throughout  the  city.     The  palace, 

the  whole  of  Constantinople,  shook  with  an  earthquake. 

The   empress,  as   superstitious    as   she  was 

Earthquake. 

Violent,  when  she  felt  her  chamber  rock 
beneath  her,  shuddering  at  the  manifest  wrath  of 
Heaven,  fell  on  her  knees,  and  entreated  the  emperor 
to  revoke  the  fatal  sentence.  She  wrote  a  hasty  letter, 
disclaiming  all  hostility  to  the  banished  prelate,  and 
protesting  that  she  was  "  innocent  of  his  blood."  The 
next  day,  the  palace  was  surrounded  by  clamorous 
multitudes,  impatiently  demanding  his  recall.  The 
voice  of  the  people  and  the  voice  of  God  seemed  to 
Return  of  2^^^  ^^  ^^^^  viudicatiou  of  Chrysostom.  The 
chrysostom.    q^:^^^  ^f  ^.^^^jj  ^^^  issucd ;   the  Bosphorus 

swarmed  with  barks,  eager  to  communicate  the  first 
intelligence,  and  to  obtain  the  honor  of  bringing  back 
the  guardian  and  the  pride  of  the  city.  He  was  met 
on  his  arrival  by  the  whole  population,  men,  women, 
and  children;  all  who  could,  bore  torches  in  their 
hands ;  and  hymns  of  thanksgiving,  composed  for  the 
occasion,  were  chanted  before  him,  as  he  proceeded  to 
the  great  church.     His  enemies  fled  on   all   sides. 


Chap.  IX.       RETURN  OF  CHRYSOSTOM.  147 

Soon  after,  Tlieophilus,  on  the  demand  of  a  free  coun- 
cil, left  Constantinople,  at  the  dead  of  the  night,  and 
embarked  for  Alexandria. 

There  is  again  some  doubt  as  to  the  authenticity  of 
the  first  discourse  delivered  by  Chrysostom  on  this 
occasion ;  none  of  the  second.  But  the  first  was  an 
extemporaneous  address,  to  which  the  extant  speech 
appears  to  correspond.  "  What  shall  I  say  ?  Blessed 
be  God !  These  were  my  last  words  on  my  departure, 
these  the  first  on  my  return.  Blessed  be  God !  be- 
cause he  permitted  the  storm  to  rage.  Blessed  be 
God!  because  he  has  allayed  it.  Let  my  enemies 
behold  how  their  conspiracy  has  advanced  my  peace, 
and  redounded  to  my  glory.  Before,  the  church 
alone  was  crowded,  now,  the  whole  forum  is  be- 
come a  church.  The  games  are  celebrating  in  the 
circus,  but  the  whole  people  pour  like  a  torrent 
to  the  church.  Your  prayers  in  my  behalf  are 
more  glorious  than  a  diadem,  —  the  prayers  both 
of  men  and  women ;  for  in  Christ  there  is  neither 
male  nor  female  ^ 

In  the  second  oration  he  draws  an  elaborate  com- 
parison between  the  situation  of  Abraham  in  Egypt 
and  his  own.  The  barbarous  Egyptian  (this  struck, 
no  doubt,  at  Theophilus)  had  endeavored  to  defile  his 
Sarah,  the  Church  of  Constantinople  ;  but  the  faithful 
Church  had  remained,  by  the  power  of  God,  uncon- 
taminated  by  this  rebuked  Abimelech.  He  dwelt  with 
pardonable  pride  on  the  faithful  attachment  of  his 
followers.  They  had  conquered  ;  but  how  ?  by  prayer 
and  submission.  The  enemy  had  brought  arms  into 
the  sanctuary,  they  had  prayed ;  like  a  spider's  web 
the  enemy  had  been  scattered,  the  faithful  remained 
firm  as  a  rock.     The  empress  herself  had  joined  the 


148  STATUE  OF  THE  EMPRESS.  Book  in. 

triumphal  procession,  when  the  sea  became,  as  the  city, 
covered  with  all  ranks,  all  ages,  and  both  sexes.^ 

But  the  peace  and  triumph  of  Chrysostom  were  not 
lasting.  As  the  fears  of  the  empress  were  allayed,  the 
old  feeling  of  hatred  to  the  bishop,  imbittered  by 
the  shame  of  defeat,  and  the  constant  suspicion  that 
either  the  preacher  or  his  audience  pointed  at  her  his 
most  vigorous  declamation,  rankled  in  the  mind  of 
Eudoxia.  It  had  become  a  strife  for  ascendency,  and 
neither  could  recede  with  safety  and  honor.  Oppor- 
tunities could  not  but  occur  to  enrage  and  exasperate ; 
nor  would  ill-disposed  persons  be  wanting  to  inflame 
the  passions  of  the  empress,  by  misrepresenting  and 
personally  applying  the  bold  and  indignant  language 
of  the  prelate. 

A  statue  of  the  empress  was  about  to  be  erected  ; 
statue  of  aiid  on  thcsc  occasious  of  public  festival  the 
the  empress,  people  wcrc  wout  to  bc  iudulgcd  in  dances, 
pantomimes,  and  every  kind  of  theatrical  amusement. 
The  zeal  of  Chrysostom  was  always  especially  directed 
against  these  idolatrous  amusements,  which  often,  he 
confesses,  drained  the  church  of  his  hearers.  This, 
now  ill-timed,  zeal  was  especially  awakened,  because 
the  statue  was  to  be  erected,  and  the  rejoicings  to  take 
place,  in  front  of  the  entrance  to  the  great  church,  the 
St.  Sophia.  His  denunciations  were  construed  into 
personal  insults  to  the  empress  ;  she  threatened  a  new 
council.  The  prelate  threw  off  the  remaining  re- 
straints of  prudence ;  repeated  more  explicitly  the 
allusion  which  he  had  before  but  covertly  hinted.  He 
thundered  out  a  homily,  with  the  memorable  exor- 
dium, "  Herodias  is  maddening,  Herodias  is  dancing, 

1  Chrysostom,  in  both  these  discourses,  states  a  curious  circumstance,  that 
the  Jews  of  Constantinople  took  great  interest  in  his  cause. 


Chap.  EX.  TUMULTS  m  THE  CHURCH.  149 

Herodias  demands  the  head  of  John."  If  Chrysostom 
could  even  be  suspected  of  such  daring  outrage 
against  the  temporal  sovereign,  if  he  ventured  on 
language  approaching  to  such  unmeasured  hostility, 
it  was  manifest  that  either  the  imperial  authority 
must  quail  and  submit  to  the  sacerdotal  domination, 
or  employ,  without  scruple,  its  power  to  crush  the 
bold  usurpation. 

An  edict  of  the  emperor  suspended  the  prelate  from 
his  functions.  Though  forty- two  bishops  second  con- 
adhered,  with  inflexible  fidelity,  to  his  cause,  chrysostom. 
he  was  condemned  by  a  second  hostile  council,  not  on 
any  new  charge,  but  for  contumacy  in  resisting  the 
decrees  of  the  former  assembly,  and  for  a  breach  of 
the  ecclesiastical  laws,  in  resuming  his  authority  while 
under  the  condemnation  of  a  council. 

The  soldiers  of  the  emperor  were  more  dangerous 
enemies  than  the  prelates.  In  the  midst  of  ad. 404. 
the  solemn  celebration  of  Good  Friday,  in  the  church. 
the  great  church  of  Santa  Sophia,  the  military  forced 
their  way,  not  merely  into  the  nave,  but  up  to  the 
altar,  on  which  were  placed  the  consecrated  elements. 
Many  worshippers  were  trodden  under  foot;  many 
wounded  by  the  swords  of  the  soldiers  ;  the  clergy 
were  dragged  to  prison ;  some  females,  who  were 
about  to  be  baptized,  were  obliged  to  fly  with  their 
disordered  apparel :  the  waters  of  the  font  were 
stained  with  blood  ;  the  soldiers  pressed  up  to  the 
altar ;  seized  the  sacred  vessels  as  their  plunder : 
the  sacred  elements  were  scattered  about ;  their  gar- 
ments were  bedewed  with  the  blood  of  the  Redeemer.^ 
Constantinople  for  several  days  had  the  appearance 

1  Chrysorjtom,  Epist.  ad  Innocentium,  c.  iii.  v.  iii.  p.  519.  Chrysostom 
exempts  tho  emperor  from  all  share  in  this  outrage,  but  attributes  it  to  the 
hostile  bishops 


150  CHRYSOSTOM  SURRENDERS.       Book  m. 

of  a  city  which  had  been  stormed.  Wherever  the 
partisans  of  Chrysostom  were  assembled,  they  were 
assaulted  and  dispersed  by  the  soldiery ;  females  were 
exposed  to  insult,  and  one  frantic  attempt  was  made 
to  assassinate  the  prelate.^ 

Chrysostom  at  length  withdrew  from  the  contest : 
Chrysostom  l^®  cscapcd  from  the  friendly  custody  of  his 
surrenders,  adhcrcnts,  and  surrendered  himself  to  the 
imperial  officers.  He  was  immediately  conveyed  by 
night  to  the  Asiatic  shore.  At  the  instant  of  his 
departure,  another  fearful  calamity  agitated  the  public 
mind.  The  church  which  he  left  burst  into  flames ; 
and  the  conflagration,  said  to  have  first  broken  out  in 
the  episcopal  throne,  reached  the  roof  of  the  building, 
and  spread  from  thence  to  the  senate-house.  These 
two  magnificent  edifices,  the  latter  of  which  contained 
some  noble  specimens  of  ancient  art,  became  in  a  few 
hours  a  mass  of  ruins.  The  partisans  of  Chrysostom, 
and  Chrysostom  himself,  were,  of  course,  accused  of 
this  act,  the  author  of  which  was  never  discovered, 
and  in  which  no  life  was  lost.  But  the  bishop  was 
charged  with  the  horrible  design  of  destroying  his 
enemies  in  the  church:  his  followers  were  charged 
with  the  guilt  of  incendiarism  with  a  less  atrocious 
object,  that  no  bishop  after  Chrysostom  might  be 
seated  in  his  pontifical  throne.^ 

The  prelate  was  not  permitted  to  choose  his  place 
of  exile.  The  peaceful  spots  which  might  have  been 
found  in  the  more  genial  climate  of  Bithynia,  or  in 

1  See  Letter  to  Olympias,  p.  548. 

2  There  are  three  laws  iu  the  Theodosian  Code  against  unlawful  and  sedi- 
tious meetings  (convcnticula),  directed  against  the  followers  of  Chrysostom, 
—  the  Joannitaj,  as  they  were  called,  "  qui  sacrilego  animo  auctoritatem  nostri 
numinis  ausi  fuerint  expugnare."  The  deity  is  the  usual  term;  but  the  deity 
of  the  feeble  Arcadius,  and  of  the  passionate  Eudoxia,  reads  strangely. 


Chap.  IX.  HIS  RETREAT.  151 

the  adjacent  provinces,  would  have  been  too  near  the 
capital.  He  was  transported  to  Cucusus,  a  small 
town  in  the  mountainous  and  savage  district  of  Arme- 
nia. On  his  journey  thither  of  several  days,  he 
suffered  much  from  fever  and  disquiet  of  mind,  and 
from  the  cruelty  of  the  officer  who  commanded  the 
guard. 1 

Yet  his  influence  was  not  extinguished  by  his 
absence.  The  Eastern  Church  was  almost  governed 
from   the  solitary  cell  of  Chrysostom.     He 

T     -,    .         n  PI      His  retreat. 

corresponded  in  all  quarters  ;  women  oi  rank 
and  opulence  sought  his  solitude  in  disguise.  The 
bishops  of  many  distant  sees  sent  him  assistance,  and 
coveted  his  advice.  The  Bishop  of  Rome  received  his 
letters  with  respect,  and  wrote  back  ardent  commenda- 
tions of  his  patience.  The  exile  of  Cucusus  exercised 
perhaps  more  extensive  authority  than  the  Patriarch 
of  Constantinople.^ 

He  was  not,  however,  permitted  to  remain  in  peace 
in  this  miserable  seclusion :  sometimes  his  life  was 
endangered  by  the  invasions  of  the  Isaurian  marau- 
ders ;  and  he  was  obliged  to  take  refuge  in  a  neighbor- 
ing   fortress,   named   Ardissa.      He   encouraged    his 

1  The  zeal  of  Chrj'sostom  did  not  slumber  even  in  this  remote  retreat.  In 
his  power  he  had  caused  to  be  destroyed  all  the  temples  of  Cybele  in  Phrj'gia. 
He  now  urged  the  tardy  monks  to  the  destruction  of  all  the  Heathen  Temples 
in  the  neighboring  districts.  —  Epist.  129,  126.     Compare  Chastel,  p.  220. 

2  Among  his  letters  ma}'^  be  remarked  those  written  to  the  celebrated 
Ulympias.  This  wealthy  widow,  who  had  refused  the  solicitations  or  com- 
mands of  Theodosius  to  marry  one  of  his  favorites,  had  almost  washed  away, 
by  her  austerities  and  virtues,  the  stain  of  her  nuptials,  and  might  rank  in 
Christian  estimation  with  those  unsullied  virgins  who  had  never  been  con- 
taminated by  marriage.  She  was  the  friend  of  all  the  distinguished  and 
orthodox  clergy,  —  of  Gregory  of  Nazianzum,  and  of  Chrysostom.  Chry- 
sostom records  to  her  praise,  that,  by  her  austerities,  she  had  brought  on 
painful  diseases,  which  baffled  the  art  of  medicine.  —  Chrysost.  Epist.  viii. 
p.  540. 


152  HIS  KEMAINS.  Boor  III. 

ardent  disciples  with  the  hope,  the  assurance,  of  his 
speedy  return  ;  but  he  miscalculated  the  obstinate  and 
implacable  resentment  of  his  persecutors.  At  length 
an  order  came  to  remove  him  to  Pityus,  on  the 
Euxine,  a  still  more  savage  place  on  the  verge  of  the 
empire.  He  died  on  the  journey,  near  Comana,  in 
Pontus. 

Some  years  afterwards,  the  remains  of  Chrysostom 
His  remains  ^^^^  transported  to  Constantinople  with  the 
trcoKn^  utmost  reverence,  and  received  with  solemn 
tinopie.  pomp.  Constantinople,  and  the  imperial 
family,  submitted  with  eager  zeal  to  worship  as  a  saint 
him  whom  they  would  not  endure  as  a  prelate. 

The  remarkable  part  in  the  whole  of  this  persecu- 
tion of  Chrysostom  is,  that  it  arose  not  out  of  differ- 
ence of  doctrine  or  polemic  hostility.  No  charge  of 
heresy  darkened  the  pure  fame  of  the  great  Christian 
orator.  His  persecution  had  not  the  dignity  of  con- 
scientious bigotry ;  it  was  a  struggle  for  power  between 
the  temporal  and  ecclesiastical  supremacy :  but  the 
passions  and  the  personal  animosities  of  ecclesiastics, 
the  ambition  and  perhaps  the  jealousy  of  the  Alexan- 
drian patriarch  as  to  jurisdiction,  lent  themselves  to 
the  degradation  of  the  episcopal  authority  in  Constan- 
tinople, from  which  it  never  rose.  No  doubt  the 
choleric  temper,  the  overstrained  severity,  the  monas- 
tic habits,  the  ambition  to  extend  his  authority,  per- 
haps beyond  its  legitimate  bounds,  and  the  indiscreet 
zeal  of  Chrysostom,  laid  him  open  to  his  adversaries ; 
but  in  any  other  station,  in  the  episcopate  of  any  other 
city,  these  infirmities  would  have  been  lost  in  the 
splendor  of  his  talents  and  his  virtues.  Though  he 
might  not  have  weaned  the  general  mass  of  the  peo- 
ple from  their  vices  or  their  amusements,  which  he 


Chap.  IX.     EFFECTS  OF  THE  FALL  OF  CHRYSOSTOM.        153 

proscribed  with  equal  severity,  yet  lie  would  have 
commanded  general  respect ;  and  nothing  less  than 
a  schism,  arising  out  of  religious  difference,  would 
have  shaken  or  impaired  his  authority. 

At  all  events,  the  fall  of  Chrysostom  was  an  inau- 
spicious omen,  and  a  warning  which  might  repress  the 
energy  of  future  prelates  ;  and,  doubtless,  the  issue 
of  this  conflict  materially  tended  to  degrade  the  office 
of  the  chief  bishop  in  the  Eastern  empire.  It  may 
be  questioned  whether  the  proximity  of  the  court,  and 
such  a  court  as  that  of  the  East,  would,  under  any 
circumstances,  have  allowed  the  episcopate  to  assume 
its  legitimate  power,  far  less  to  have  encroached  on 
the  temporal  sovereignty.  But,  after  this  time,  the 
Bishop  of  Constantinople  almost  sank  into  a  high 
officer  of  state ;  appointed  by  the  influence,  if  not 
directly  nominated  by  the  emperor,  his  gratitude  was 
bound  to  reverence,  or  his  prudence  to  dread,  that 
arbitrary  power  which  had  raised  him  from  nothing, 
and  might  dismiss  him  to  his  former  insignificance. 
Except  on  some  rare  occasions,  he  bowed  with  the 
rest  of  the  empire  before  the  capricious  will  of  the 
sovereign  or  the  ruling  favorite :  he  was  content  if 
the  emperor  respected  the  outward  ceremonial  of  the 
Church,  and  did  not  openly  espouse  any  heretical 
doctrine. 

Christianity  thus  remained,  in  some  respects,  an 
antagonist  principle,  counteracting  by  its  perpetual 
remonstrance,  and  rivalling  by  its  attractive  ceremo- 
nial, the  vices  and  licentious  diversions  of  the  capital : 
but  its  moral  authority  was  not  allied  with  power  ;  it 
quailed  under  the  universal  despotism,  and  was  en- 
tirely inefficient  as  a  corrective  of  imperial  tyranny. 
It  thus  escaped  the  evils  inseparable  from  the  undue 


154       EFFECTS  OF  THE  FALL  OF  CHRYSOSTOM.     Book  HI. 

elevation  of  the  sacerdotal  character,  and  the  tempta- 
tions to  encroach  beyond  its  proper  limits  on  the  civil 
power ;  but  it  likewise  gradually  sank  far  below  that 
uncompromising  independence,  that  venerable  majesty, 
which  might  impose  some  restraint  on  the  worst 
excesses  of  violence,  and  infuse  justice  and  huraanity 
into  the  manners  of  the  court  and  of  the  people. 


Chap.  X.  AMBROSE.  156 


CHAPTER    X. 

The  great  Prelates  of  the  West. 

The  character  and  the  fate  of  Ambrose  offer  the  strong- 
est contrast  with  that  of  Chrysostom.  Am-  Ambrose, 
brose  was  no  dreaming  solitary  brought  up  in  of  MUaa. 
the  seclusion  of  the  desert  or  among  a  fraternity  of  reli- 
gious husbandmen.  He  had  been  versed  in  civil  busi- 
ness from  his  youth  ;  he  had  already  obtained  a  high 
station  in  the  imperial  service.  His  eloquence  had 
little  of  the  richness,  imaginative  variety,  or  dramatic 
power  of  the  Grecian  orator  ;  hard  but  vigorous,  it  was 
Roman,  forensic,  practical,  —  I  mean  wliere  it  related 
to  aflairs  of  business,  or  addressed  men  in  general :  it 
has,  as  we  shall  hereafter  observe,  a  very  different 
character  in  some  of  his  theological  writings. 

In  Ambrose  the  sacerdotal  character  assumed  a  dig- 
nity and  an  influence  as  yet  unknown ;  it  first  began 
to  confront  the  throne,  not  only  on  terms  of  equality, 
but  of  superior  authority,  and  to  exercise  a  spiritual 
dictatorship  over  the  supreme  magistrate.  The  resist- 
ance of  Athanasius  to  the  imperial  authority  had  been 
firm  but  deferential,  passive  rather  than  aggressive. 
In  his  ])uhlic  addresses  he  had  respected  the  majesty  of 
the  empire  ;  at  all  events,  the  hierarchy  of  that  period 
only  questioned  the  authority  of  the  sovereign  in  mat- 
ters of  faith.  But  in  Ambrose  the  episcopal  power 
acknowledged  no  limits  to  its  moral  dominion,  and 
admitted  no  distinction  of  persons.    While  the  bishops 


156  YOUTH  OF  AMBROSE.         Book  in. 

of  Rome  were  comparatively  without  authority,  and 
still  partially  obscured  by  the  concentration  of  Pagan- 
ism in  the  aristocracy  of  the  capitol,  the  Archbishop 
of  Milan  began  to  develop  papal  power  and  papal  im- 
periousness.  Ambrose  was  the  spiritual  ancestor  of 
the  Hildebrands  and  the  Innocents.  Like  Chrysostom, 
Ambrose  had  to  strive  against  the  passionate  animosity 
of  an  empress,  not  merely  exasperated  against  him  by 
his  suspected  disrespect  and  disobedience,  but  by  the 
bitterness  of  religious  difference.  Yet  how  opposite 
the  result !  And  Ambrose  had  to  assert  his  religious 
authority,  not  against  the  feeble  Arcadius,  but  against 
his  father,  the  great  Theodosius.  We  cannot,  indeed, 
but  recognize  something  of  the  undegraded  Roman 
of  the  West  in  Ambrose  :  Chrysostom  has  something  of 
the  feebleness  and  degeneracy  of  the  Byzantine. 

The  father  of  Ambrose,  who  bore  the  same  name, 
Youth  of  liad  administered  the  province  of  Gaul  as 
Ambrose.  prgetoriau  prefect.  The  younger  Ambrose, 
while  pursuing  his  studies  at  Rome,  had  attracted  the 
notice  of  Probus,  praetorian  prefect  of  Italy.  Ambrose, 
through  his  influence,  was  appointed  to  the  administra- 
tion of  the  provinces  of  Emilia  and  Liguria.^  Probus 
was  a  Christian,  and  his  parting  admonition  to  the 
young  civilian  was  couched  in  these  prophetic  words : 
"  Rule  the  province,  not  as  a  judge,  but  as  a  bishop."  ^ 
Milan  was  within  the  department  assigned  to  Ambrose. 
This  city  had  now  begun  almost  to  rival  or  eclipse 
Rome  as  the  capital  of  the  Occidental  empire ;  and, 
from  the  celebrity  of  its  schools,  it  was  called  the 
Athens  of  the  West.     The  Church  of  Milan  was  rent 

1  Chiefly  from  the  life  of  Ambrose  affixed  to  the  Benedictine  edition  of  his 
works;  the  Life  by  Paulinus;  and  Tillemont. 

2  Paul.,  Vit.  Ambros.  8. 


Chap.  X.         AMBROSE  ADVOCATE  OF  CELIBACY.  157 

with  divisions.  On  a  vacancy  caused  by  the  death  of 
Auxentius,  the  celebrated  Arian,  the  two  parties,  the 
Arian  and  the  Athanasian,  violently  contested  the  ap- 
pointment of  the  bishop. 

Ambrose  appeared  in  his  civil  character  to  allay  the 
tumult,  by  the  awe  of  his  presence  and  by  Ambrose 
the  persuasive  force  of  his  eloquence.  He  ad. 374. 
spoke  so  wisely,  and  in  such  a  Christian  spirit,  that  a 
general  acclamation  suddenly  broke  forth,  "  Ambrose, 
be  bishop ;  Ambrose,  be  bishop."  Ambrose  was  yet 
)nly  a  catechumen ;  he  attempted  in  every  way,  by 
assuming  a  severe  character  as  a  magistrate,  and  by 
flight,  to  elude  the  unexpected  honor.^  The  ardor  of 
the  people,  and  the  approbation  of  the  emperor ,2  com 
pelled  him  to  assume  the  office.  Ambrose  cast  off  at 
once  the  pomp  and  majesty  of  his  civil  state  ;  but  that 
which  was  in  some  degree  disadvantageous  to  Chrysos- 
tom,  his  severe  simplicity  of  life,  only  increased  the 
admiration  and  attachment  of  the  less  luxurious,  or  at 
least  less  effeminate.  West,  to  their  pious  prelate ;  for 
Ambrose  assumed  only  the  austerity,  nothing  of  the 
inactive  and  contemplative  seclusion,  of  the  monastic 
system.  The  only  Eastern  influence  which  Ambrose 
fettered  his  strong  mind  was  his  earnest  ad-  ceubacy. 
miration  of  celibacy ;  in  all  other  respects  he  was  a 
Roman  statesman,  not  a  meditative  Oriental,  or  rhe- 
torical Greek.  The  strong  contrast  of  this  doctrine 
with  the  dissolute  manners  of  Rome,  which  no  doubt 
extended  to  Milan,  made  it  the  more  impressive  ;  it  was 
received  with  all  the  ardor  of  novelty,  and  the  impetu- 
osity of  the  Italian  character ;  it  captivated  all  ranks 
and  all  orders.     Mothers  shut  up  their  daughters,  lest 

1  De  Offic. ;  Vita  S.  Ambros.  p.  xxxiv.;  Epist.  xxi.  p.  865;  Epist.  Ixiii. 

2  Compare  the  account  of  Valentiuian's  conduct  in  Theodoret,  iv.  7. 


158  AMBROSE  ADVOCATE   OF  CELIBACY.        Book  III 

tliey  should  be  exposed  to  the  chaste  seduction  of  the 
bishop's  eloquence,  and,  binding  themselves  by  rash 
vows  of  virginity,  forfeit  the  hope  of  becoming  Roman 
matrons.  Ambrose,  immediately  on  his  appointment, 
under  Valentinian  I.,  asserted  that  ecclesiastical  power 
which  he  confirmed  under  the  feeble  reign  of  Gratian 
and  Yalentinian  II. ;  ^  he  maintained  it  when  he  was 
confronted  by  a  nobler  antagonist,  the  great  Theodo- 
sius.  He  assumed  the  office  of  director  of  the  royal 
conscience,  and  he  administered  that  office  with  all  the 
uncompromising  moral  dignity  which  had  no  indul- 
gence for  unchristian  vices,  for  injustice,  or  cruelty, 
even  in  an  emperor ;  and  with  all  the  stern  and  con- 
scientious intolerance  of  one  with  whom  hatred  of 
Paganism  and  of  heresy  was  a  prime  article  of  his 
creed.  The  Old  and  the  New  Testament  met  in  the 
person  of  Ambrose,  —  the  implacable  hostility  to  idol- 
atry, the  abhorrence  of  every  deviation  from  the  estab- 
lished formulary  of  belief;  the  wise  and  courageous 
benevolence,  the  generous  and  unselfish  devotion  to 
the  great  interests  of  humanity. 

If  Christianity  assumed  a  haughtier  and  more  rigid 
tone  in  the  conduct  and  writings  of  Ambrose,  it  was 
by  no  means  forgetful  of  its  gentler  duties,  in  allaying 
human  misery  and  extending  its  beneficent  care  to  the 
utmost  bounds  of  society.  With  Ambrose,  it  began  its 
high  office  of  mitigating  the  horrors  of  slavery,  which 
now  that  war  raged  in  turn  on  every  frontier,  might 
seem  to  threaten  individually  the  whole  free  population 
of  the  empire.  Rome,  who  had  drawn  new  supplies 
of  slaves  from  almost  every  frontier  of  her  dominions, 
now  suffered  fearful  reprisals :  her  free  citizens  were 
sent  into  captivity,  and  sold  in  the  markets  by  the  bar- 

1  Theodoret,  iv.  7. 


Chap.  X.  REDEMPTION  OF  CAPTIVES.  159 

barians,  whose  ancestors  had  been  bonght  and  bartered 
by  her  insatiable  slave  trade.  The  splendid  Redemption 
offerings  of  piety,  the  ornaments,  even  the  by^A^bTO^se. 
consecrated  vessels  of  the  chnrches,  were  prodigally 
expended  by  the  Bishop  of  Milan,  in  the  redemption 
of  captives.^  "  The  church  possesses  gold,  not  to  treas- 
ure up,  but  to  distribute  it  for  tlie  welfare  and  happi- 
ness of  men.  We  are  ransoming  the  souls  of  men 
from  eternal  perdition.  It  is  not  merely  the  lives  of 
men  and  the  honor  of  women  which  are  endangered 
in  captivity,  but  the  faith  of  their  children.  The  blood 
of  redemption  which  has  gleamed  in  those  golden  cups 
has  sanctified  them,  not  for  the  service  alone,  bui  for 
the  redemption  of  man."  ^  These  arguments  may  be 
considered  as  a  generous  repudiation  of  the  ecclesias- 
tical spirit  for  the  nobler  ends  of  beneficence ;  and,  no 
doubt,  in  that  mediation  of  the  Church  between  man- 
kind and  the  miseries  of  slavery,  which  was  one  of  her 
most  constant  and  useful  ministrations  during  the 
darker  period  of  human  society,  the  example  and 
authority  of  Ambrose  perpetually  encouraged  the  gen- 
erosity of  the  more  liberal,  and  repressed  the  narrow 
view  of  those  who  considered  the  consecrated  treasures 
of  the  church  inviolable,  even  for  these  more  sacred 
objects.^ 

The  ecclesiastical  zeal  of  Ambrose,  like  that  of 
Chrysostom,  scorned  the  limits  of  his  own  diocese. 
The  see  of  Sirmium  was  vacant;  Ambrose  appeared 
in  that  city  to  prevent  the  election  of  an  Arian,  and  to 
secure  the  appointment  of  an  orthodox  bishop.     The 

1  "  Numerent  quos  redemerint  templa  captivos."  So  Ambrose  appeals, 
in  excusable  pride,  to  the  Heathen  orator.  —  Ambros.  Epist.  ii.  in  Synima- 
chum. 

2  Offic.  c.  15,  c.  28.    Compare  Greg.  M.  Epist.  vi.  35 ;  vii.  2,  14. 

3  Even  Fleury  argues  that  these  could  not  be  consecrated  vessels. 


160  DISPUTE  WITH  Book  HI. 

strength  of  the  opposite  party  lay  in  the  zeal  and  influ- 
ence   of    the    empress    Justina.      Ambrose 

A  D  379. 

defied  both,  and   made   himself  a   powerful 
and  implacable  enemy. 

But,  for  a  time,  Justina  was  constrained  to  suppress 
her  resentment.  In  a  few  years,  Ambrose 
appears  in  a  new  position  for  a  Christian 
bishop,  as  the  mediator  between  rival  competitors  for 
the  empire.  The  ambassador  sent  to  Maximus  (who 
had  assumed  the  purple  in  Gaul,  and,  after  the  murder 
of  Gratian,  might  be  reasonably  suspected  of  hostile 
designs  on  Italy)  was  no  distinguished  warrior,  or 
influential  civilian  ;  the  difficult  negotiation  was  forced 
upon  the  bishop  of  Milan.  The  character  and  weight 
of  Ambrose  appeared  the  best  protection  of  the  young 
Yalentinian.  Ambrose  is  said  to  have  re- 
fused to  communicate  with  Maximus,  the 
murderer  of  his  sovereign.  The  interests  of  his  earthly 
monarch  or  of  the  empire  would  not  induce  him  to 
sacrifice  for  an  instant  those  of  his  heavenly  Master  ; 
he  would  have  no  fellowship  with  the  man  of  blood.^ 
Yet  so  completely,  either  by  his  ability  as  a  negotiator 
or  by  his  dignity  and  sanctity  as  a  prelate,  did  he  over- 
awe the  usurper,  as  to  avert  the  evils  of  war,  and  to 
arrest  the  hostile  invasion  of  his  diocese  and  of  Italy. 
He  succeeded  in  establishing  peace. 

But  the  gratitude  of  Justina  for  this  essential  ser- 
Dispute  with  vicc  could  uot  avcrt  the  collision  of  hostile 
Justina.  religious  creeds.  The  empress  demanded  one 
of  the  churches  in  Milan  for  the  celebration  of  the 
Arian  service.  The  first  and  more  modest  request 
named   the   Porcian  Basilica  without  the  gates,  but 

1  The  seventeenth  Epistle  of  Ambrose  relates  the  whole  transaction, 
p.  862. 


Chap.  X.  THE  EMPRESS  JUSTINA.  161 

these  demands  rose  to  the  new  and  largest  edifice 
within  the  walls. ^  The  answer  of  Ambrose  was  firm 
and  distinct ;  it  asserted  the  inviolability  of  all  prop- 
erty in  the  possession  of  the  Church :  "  A  bishop  can- 
not alienate  that  which  is  dedicated  to  God."  After 
some  fruitless  negotiation,  the  officers  of  the  emperor 
proceeded  to  take  possession  of  the  Porcian  Basilica. 
Where  these  buildings  had  belonged  to  the  state,  the 
emperor  might  still,  perhaps,  assert  the  right  of  prop- 
erty. Tumults  arose :  an  Arian  priest  was  severely 
handled,  and  only  rescued  from  the  hands  of  the  pop- 
ulace by  the  influence  of  Ambrose.  Many  wealthy 
persons  were  thrown  into  prison  by  the  Government, 
and  heavy  fines  exacted  on  account  of  these  seditions. 
But  the  inflexible  Ambrose  persisted  in  his  refusal  to 
acknowledge  the  imperial  authority  over  things  dedi- 
cated to  God.  When  he  was  commanded  to  allay  the 
populace,  "  it  is  in  my  power,"  he  answered,  "  to  re- 
frain from  exciting  their  violence,  but  it  is  for  God  to 
appease  it  when  excited.^  The  soldiers  surrounded 
the  building;  they  threatened  to  violate  the  sanctity 
of  the  church  in  which  Ambrose  was  performing 
the  usual  solemnities.  The  bishop  calmly  continued 
his  functions,  and  his  undisturbed  countenance  seemed 
as  if  his  whole  mind  was  absorbed  in  its  devotion. 
The  soldiers  entered  the  church ;  the  afii'ighted  fe- 
males began  to  fly ;  but  the  rude  and  armed  men  fell 
on  their  knees,  and  assured  Ambrose  that  they  came 
to  pray,  and  not  to  fight.^     Ambrose  ascended  the  pul- 

1  Paul.,  Vit.  Ambrose.     Ambros.  Epist.  xx. 

2  "Referebam  in  meo  jure  esse,  ut  non  excitarem,  in  Dei  manu,  uti  miti- 
garet." 

3  It  would  be  curious  if  we  could  ascertain  the  diflferent  constitution  of 
the  troops  employed  in  the  irreverent  scenes  in  the  churches  of  Alexandria 
and  Constantinople,  and  here  at  Milan.    Were  the  former  raised  from  the. 

VOL.    III.  11 


162      THE  EMPEROR  YIELDS  TO  AMBROSE.   Book  III. 

pit ;  his  sermon  was  on  the  Book  of  Job ;  he  enlarged 
on  the  conduct  of  the  wife  of  the  patriarch,  who  com- 
manded him  to  blaspheme  God ;  he  compared  the 
empress  with  this  example  of  impiety ;  he  went  on  to 
compare  her  with  Eve,  with  Jezebel,  with  Herodias. 
"  The  emperor  demands  a  church :  what  has  the  em- 
peror to  do  with  the  adulteress,  the  church  of  the  here- 
tics ?  "  Intelligence  arrived  that  the  populace  were 
tearing  down  the  hangings  of  the  church  on  which 
was  the  sacred  image  of  the  sovereign,  and  which  had 
been  suspended  in  the  Porcian  Basilica,  as  a  sign  that 
the  church  had  been  taken  into  the  possession  of  the  em- 
peror. Ambrose  sent  some  of  his  priests  to  allay  the 
tumult,  but  went  not  himself.  He  looked  triumph- 
antly around  on  his  armed  devotees  :  "  The  Gentiles 
have  entered  into  the  inheritance  of  the  Lord  ;  but 
the  armed  Gentiles  have  become  Christians  and  co-heirs 
of  God.     My  enemies  are  now  my  defenders." 

A  confidential  secretary  of  the  emperor  appeared, 
not  to  expel  or  degrade  the  refractory  prelate,  but  to 
deprecate  his  tyranny.  "  Why  do  ye  hesitate  to  strike 
down  the  tyrant?^''  replied  Ambrose  :  "my  only  defence 
is  in  my  power  of  exposing  my  life  for  the  honor  of 
God."  He  proceeded  with  proud  humility,  "  Under 
the  ancient  law,  priests  have  bestowed,  they  have  not 
condescended  to  assume,  empire ;  kings  have  desired 
the  priesthood  rather  than  priests  the  royal  power." 
The  emperor  Hc  appealed  to  liis  influcnce  over  Maximus, 

yields  to  .  .  . 

Ambrose.  whicli  had  avcrtcd  the  invasion  of  Italy.  The 
imperial  authority  quailed  before  the  resolute  prelate  ; 
the  soldiers  were  withdrawn,  the  prisoners  released, 

vicious  population  of  the  Eastern  cities,  the  latter  partly  composed  of  bar- 
barians? How  much  is  justly  to  be  attributed  to  the  character  of  the 
prelate? 


Chap.  X.  ANIMOSITY  OF  THE  EMPRESS.  163 

and  the  fines  annulled.^  When  the  emperor  himself 
was  urged  to  confront  Ambrose  in  the  church,  the 
timid  or  prudent  youth  replied,  "  His  eloquence  would 
compel  yourselves  to  lay  me  bound  hand  and  foot 
before  his  throne."  To  such  a  height  had  the  sacer- 
dotal power  attained  in  the  West,  when  wielded  by 
a  man  of  the  energy  and  determination  of  Ambrose. ^ 

But  the  pertinacious  animosity  of  the  empress  was 
not  yet  exhausted.  A  law  was  passed  authorizing  the 
assemblies  of  the  Arians.  A  second  struggle  took 
place  ;  a  new  triumph  for  Ambrose,  a  new  defeat  for 
the  imperial  power.  From  his  inviolable  citadel,  his 
church,  Ambrose  uttered  in  courageous  security  his 
defiance.  An  emphatic  sentence  expressed  the  prel- 
ate's notion  of  the  relation  of  the  civil  and  religious 
power,  and  proclaimed  the  subordination  of  the  em- 
peror within  the  mysterious  circle  of  sacerdotal  au- 
thority :  "  The  emperor  is  of  the  Church,  and  in  the 
Church,  but  not  above  the  Church." 

Was  it  to  be  supposed  that  the  remonstrances  of 
expiring  Paganism  would  make  any  impression  upon 
a  court  thus  under  subjection  to  one,  who,  by  exercis- 
ing the  office  of  protector  in  the  time  of  peril,  assumed 
the  right  to  dictate  on  subjects  which  appeared  more 
completely  within  his  sphere  of  jurisdiction  ?  If 
Aiianism  in  the  person  of  the  empress  was  compelled 
to  bow,  Paganism  could  scarcely  hope  to  obtain  even  a 
patient  hearing. 

1  "  Certatim  hoc  nuntiare  milites,  irruentes  in  altaria,  osculis  significare 
pacis  insigne."  Ambrose  perceived  that  God  had  stricken  Lucifer,  the  great 
Dragtn  (vermem  antelucanum). 

2  Ambrose  relates  that  one  of  the  officers  of  the  court,  more  daring  than 
the  rest,  presumed  to  resent  this  outrage,  as  he  considered  it,  on  the  emperor. 
"  While  I  live,  dost  thou  thus  treat  Valentinian  with  contempt?  I  will  strike 
off  thy  head."  Ambrose  replied,  "  God  grant  that  thou  mayest  fulfil  thy 
menace.  I  shall  suffer  the  fate  of  a  bishop:  thou  wUt  do  the  act  of  an 
eunuch"  (tu  facies,  quod  spadones). 


164  ELOQUENCE  OF  AMBROSE.  Book  III. 

We  have  already  related  the  contest  between  ex- 
piring Polytheism  and  ascendant  Christianity  in  the 
persons  of  Symmachus  and  of  Ambrose.  The  more 
polished  periods  and  the  gentle  dignity  of  Symmachus 
might  delight  the  old  aristocracy  of  Rome.  But  the 
full  flow  of  the  more  vehement  eloquence  of  Ambrose, 
falling  into  the  current  of  popular  opinion  at  Milan, 
swept  all  before  it.^  By  this  time  the  Old  Testament 
language  and  sentiment  with  regard  to  idolatry  were 
completely  incorporated  with  the  Christian  feeling  ;  and, 
when  Ambrose  enforced  on  a  Christian  emperor  the 
sacred  duty  of  intolerance  against  opinions  and  practices 
which  scarcely  a  century  before  had  been  the  established 
religion  of  the  empire,  his  zeal  was  supported  by 
almost  the  unanimous  applause  of  the  Christian  world. 

Ambrose  did  not  rely  on  his  eloquence  alone,  or  on 
the  awfulness  of  his  sacerdotal  character,  to  control 
the  public  mind.  The  champion  of  the  Church  was 
invested  by  popular  belief,  perhaps  by  his  own  ardent 
faith,  with  miraculous  power,  and  the  high  state  of 
religious  excitement  was  maintained  in  Milan  by  the 
increasing  dignity  and  splendor  of  the  ceremonial,  and 
by  the  pompous  installation  of  the  reliques  of  saints 
within  the  principal  church. 

1  The  most  curious  fact  relating  to  Ambrose  is  the  extraordinary  con- 
trast between  his  vigorous,  practical,  and  statesmanlike  character  as  a  man, 
as  well  as  that  of  such  among  his  writings  as  may  be  called  public  and  popu- 
lar, and  the  mystic  subtlety  which  fills  most  of  his  theological  works.  He 
treats  the  Scripture  as  one  vast  allegory,  and  propounds  his  own  fanciful 
interpretation,  or  corollaries,  with  as  much  authority  as  if  they  were  the 
plain  sense  of  the  sacred  writer.  No  retired  schoolman  follows  out  the  fan- 
tastic analogies  and  recondite  significations  which  he  perceives  in  almost 
every  word,  with  more  vain  ingenuity  than  Ambrose.  Every  word  or  num- 
ber reminds  him  of  every  other  place  in  the  Scripture  in  which  the  same 
•word  or  number  occurs ;  and,  stringing  them  together  with  this  loose  con- 
nection, he  works  out  some  latent  mystic  signification,  which  he  would  sup- 
pose to  have  been  within  the  intention  of  the  inspired  writer.  See  particu- 
larly the  Hexaemeron. 


Chap.  X.  MIRACLES.  165 

It  cannot  escape  the  observation  of  a  calm  inquirer 
into  the  history  of  man,  or  be  disguised  by  an  admirer 
of  a  rational,  pious,  and  instructive  Christian  ministry, 
that  whenever,  from  this  period,  the  clergy  possessed 
a  full  and  dominant  power,  the  claim  to  supernatural 
power  is  more  frequently  and  ostentatiously  made ; 
while,  where  they  possess  a  less  complete  ascendency, 
miracles  cease.  While  Ambrose  was  at  least  availing 
himself  of,  if  not  encouraging,  this  religious  credulity, 
Chrysostom,  partly,  no  doubt,  from  his  own  good  sense, 
partly  from  respect  for  the  colder  and  more  inquisitive 
character  of  his  audience,  not  merely  distinctly  disa- 
vows miraculous  powers  in  his  own  person,  but  asserts 
that  long  ago  they  had  come  to  an  end.^  But  in  Milan 
the  archbishop  asserts  his  belief  in,  and  the  eager 
enthusiasm  of  the  people  did  not  hesitate  to  embrace 
as  unquestionable  truth,  the  public  display  of  preter- 
natural power  in  the  streets  of  the  city.     A  dream 

1  Ala  TOVTO  TTapa  fitv  t^v  apxvv  kol  uva^toLg  X'^pklJ-ara  e6l8oto-  xP^^clv 
yap  elxe  ro  TraXaibv,  Tfjg  maTEug  evEKa,  Tavrrjg  rfj^  (SoTjdEtag-  vvv  6e  oiids 
ufiotg  didorat.     In  Act,  vol.  iii.  65.     Mrj  tolvvv  to  (ifj  yeveadac  vvv  a7]f/,eia, 

TEKflTjpcOV     TTOiOV    TOV   flT]   JEyEvijadai   TOTE,    KOL     Jup     6fj    TOTE    XPW'^f^^^C    ^yi- 

VETO,  Kal  vvv  ;^;p?7crijU6)f  ov  yivETai.  See  the  whole  passage  in  Cor.  Horn, 
vi.  xi.  45.  On  Psalm  ex.,  indeed,  vol.  v.  p.  271,  he  seems  to  assert  the  con- 
tinuance of  miracles,  particularly  during  the  reign  of  Julian  and  of  Maximin. 
But  he  gives  the  death  of  Julian  as  one  of  those  miracles.  Kal  yap  koI  6ia 
TOVTO,  Kal  61  ETEpov  Tu  GT][/,Eta  ETtavGEV  6  Gfof,  in  Matt.  vii.  375.  Com- 
pare also  vol.  i.  p.  411;  xi.  397,  in  Coloss. ;  on  Psalm  cxlii.  vol.  v.  p.  455. 
Middleton  has  dwelt  at  length  on  this  subject.  —  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  103. 

AUj^ustine  denies  the  continuance  of  miracles  with  equal  distinctness. 
•'  Cum  enim  Ecclesia  Catholica  per  totum  orbem  diffusa  atque  fundata  sit,  nee 
miracula  ilia  in  nostra  tempera  durare  permissa  sunt,  ne  animus  semper  visi- 
bilia  quaereret,  et  eorum  consuetudine  frigesceret  genus  humanum,  quorum 
novitate  flagravit."  — De  Vera  Relig.  c.  47.  Oper.  i.  765.  Yet  Fleury  appeals, 
and  not  without  ground,  to  the  repeated  testimony  of  St.  Augustine,  as  eye- 
witness of  this  miracle;  and  the  reader  of  St.  Augustine's  works,  even  his 
noblest  (see  lib.  xx.  c.  8),  the  City  of  God,  cannot  but  call  to  mind  pei-petual 
instances  of  miraculous  occurrences  related  with  unhesitating  faith.  It  is 
singular  how  often  we  hear  at  one  time  the  strong  intellect  of  Augustine,  at 
mother  the  age  of  Augustine,  speaking  in  his  works. 


166  MIRACLES  — RELIQUES.  Book  III. 

revealed  to  the  pious  prelate  the  spot,  where  rested  the 
reliqiies  of  the  martyrs,  SS.  Gervaise  and  Protadius. 
As  they  approached  the  place,  a  man  possessed  by  a 
demon  was  seized  with  a  paroxysm  which  betrayed  his 
trembling  consciousness  of  the  presence  of  the  holy 
remains.  The  bones  of  two  men  of  great  stature  were 
found,  with  much  blood.^  The  bodies  were  disinterred, 
and  conveyed  in  solemn  pomp  to  the  Ambrosian 
Church.  They  were  re-interred  under  the  altar ;  they 
became  the  tutelary  saints  of  the  spot.^  A  blind 
butcher,  named  Severus,  recovered  his  eyesight  by  the 
application  of  a  handkerchief,  which  had  touched  the 
reliques ;  and  this  was  but  one  of  the  many  wonders 
which  were  universally  supposed  to  have  been  wrought 
by  the  smallest  article  of  dress,  which  had  imbibed 
the  miraculous  virtue  of  these  sacred  bones. 

The  awe-struck  mind  was  never  permitted  to  repose ; 
more  legitimate  means  were  employed  to  maintain  the 
ardent  belief,  thus  enforced  upon  the  multitude. 
The  \vhole  ceremonial  of  the  Church  was  conducted  by 
Ambrose  with  unrivalled  solemnity  and  magnificence. 
Music  was  cultivated  with  the  utmost  care,  some  of  the 
noblest  hymns  of  the  Latin  Church  are  attributed  to 
Ambrose  himself,  and  the  Ambrosian  service  for  a  long 
period  distinguished  the  Church  of  Milan  by  the  grave 
dignity  and  simple  fulness  of  its  harmony .^ 

1  The  Arians  denied  this  miracle.  —  Ambrose,  Epist.  xxii.  "  luvenimus 
mirse  magnitudinis  viros  duos,  ut  p7'isca  cetas  ferebat.''''  Did  Ambrose  suppose 
that  the  race  of  men  had  degenerated  in  the  last  two  or  three  centuries '?  or 
that  the  heroes  of  the  faith  had  been  gifted  with  heroic  stature '?  The  ser- 
mon of  Ambrose  is  a  strange  rhapsody,  which  Avould  only  suit  an  highly 
excited  audience.  He  acknowledges  that  these  mart\Ts  were  unknown,  and 
that  the  Church  of  Milan  was  before  barren  of  reliques. 

'^  "  Succedunt  victimie  triumphales  in  locum  ubi  Christus  natus  est;  sed 
ille  super  altare  qui  pro  omnibus  passus  est;  isti  sub  altari  qui  illius  reveriti 
sunt  passionem;"  but  Ambrose  calls  them  the  guardians  and  defenders  of 
the  Church- 

8  This  subject  will  recur  at  a  later  part  of  this  volume. 


Chap.x.  second  embassy  to  maximus.  167 

But  tlie  sacerdotal  dignity  of  Ambrose  might  com- 
mand a  feeble  boy :  he  had  now  to  confront  the  impe- 
rial majesty  in  the  person  of  one  of  the  greatest  men 
who  had  ever  worn  the  Roman  purple.  Even  in  the 
midst  of  his  irreconcilable  feud  with  the  heretical  em- 
press, Ambrose  had  been  again  entreated  to  spread  the 
shield  of  his  protection  over  the  youthful  emperor. 
He  had  undertaken  a  second  embassy  to  the  second  em- 
usurper  Maximus.  Maximus,  as  if  he  feared  iiaximus. 
the  awful  influence  of  Ambrose  over  his  mind,  refused 
to  admit  the  priestly  ambassador,  except  to  a  public 
audience.  Ambrose  was  considered  as  condescending 
from  his  dignity,  in  approaching  the  throne  of  the  em- 
peror. The  usurper  reproached  the  prelate  for  his 
former  interference,  by  which  he  had  been  arrested  in 
his  invasion  of  Italy,  and  had  lost  the  opportunity  of 
becoming  master  of  the  unresisting  province.  Am- 
brose answered  with  pardonable  pride,  that  he  accepted 
the  honorable  accusation  of  having  saved  the  orplian 
emperor.  He  then  arrayed  himself,  as  it  were,  in  his 
priestly  inviolability,  reproached  Maximus  with  the 
murder  of  Gratian,  and  demanded  his  remains.  He 
again  refused  all  spiritual  communion  with  one  guilty 
of  innocent  blood,  for  which  as  yet  he  had  submitted 
to  no  ecclesiastical  penance.  Maximus,  as  might  have 
been  expected,  drove  from  his  court  the  daring  prelate, 
who  had  thus  stretched  to  the  utmost  the  sanctity  of 
person  attributed  to  an  ambassador  and  a  bishop. 
Ambrose,  however,  returned  not  merely  safe,  but  with- 
out insult  or  outrage,  to  his  Italian  diocese.^ 

The  arms  of  Theodosius  decided  the  contest,  and 
secured  the  trembling  throne  of  Yalentinian  Accession  of 
the  younger.     But  the  accession  of  Theodo-  ad. sss. 

1  Epist.  xxiv 


168  CONDUCT  OF  AMBROSE.  Book  III. 

sius,  instead  of  obscuring  the  rival  pretensions  of  the 
Church  to  power  and  influence,  seemed  to  confirm  and 
strengthen  them.  That  such  a  mind  as  that  of  Theo- 
dosius  should  submit  with  humility  to  ecclesiastical 
remonstrance  and  discipline  tended  no  doubt,  beyond 
all  other  events,  to  overawe  mankind.  Everywhere 
else  throughout  the  Roman  world,  the  state,  and  even 
the  Church,  bowed  at  the  foot  of  Theodosius  ;  in  Milan 
alone,  in  the  height  of  his  power,  he  was  confronted 
and  subdued  by  the  more  commanding  mind  and  reli- 
gious majesty  of  Ambrose.  His  justice  as  well  as  his 
dignity  quailed  beneath  the  ascendency  of  the  prelate. 
Jewish  A  synagogue  of  the  Jews  at  Callinicum,  in 
dSoyeT  Osroene,  had  been  burned  by  the  Christians, 
it  was  said,  at  the  instigation,  if  not  under  the  actual 
sanction  of  the  bishop.  The  church  of  the  Val- 
entinian  Gnostics  had  likewise  been  destroyed  and 
plundered  by  the  zeal  of  some  monks.  Theodosius 
commanded  the  restoration  of  the  synagogue  at  the 
expense  of  the  Christians,  and  fair  compensation  to 
the  heretical  Valentinians  for  their  losses. 

The  pious  indignation  of  Ambrose  was  not  restrained 
either  by  the  remoteness  of  these  transactions  from  the 
scene  of  his  own  labors  or  by  the  undeniable  violence 
Conduct  of  of  *^^^  Christian  party.  He  stood  forward, 
Ambrose,  dcsiguatcd,  it  might  seem,  by  his  situation 
and  character,  as  the  acknowledged  champion  of  the 
whole  of  Christianity;  the  sacerdotal  power  was  em- 
bodied in  his  person.  In  a  letter  to  the  emperor,  he 
boldly  vindicated  the  bishop ;  he  declared  himself,  as 
far  as  his  approbation  could  make  him  so,  an  accom- 
plice in  the  glorious  and  holy  crime.  If  martyrdom 
was  the  consequence,  he  claimed  the  honor  of  that 
martyrdom;  he  declared  it  to  be  utterly  irreconcila- 


Chai.X.  conduct  of  AMBROSE.  169 

ble  with  Christianity,  that  it  should  in  any  way  con- 
tribute to  the  restoration  of  Jewish  or  heretical  wor- 
ship.^ If  the  bishop  should  comply  with  the  mandate, 
he  would  be  an  apostate,  and  the  emperor  would  be 
answerable  for  his  apostasy.  This  act  was  but  a 
slight  and  insufficient  retaliation  for  the  deeds  of  plun- 
der and  destruction  perpetrated  by  the  Jews  and  here 
tics  against  orthodox  Christians.  The  letter  oi 
Ambrose  did  not  produce  the  desired  effect ;  but  the 
bishop  renewed  his  address  in  public  in  the  church, 
and  at  length  extorted  from  the  emperor  the  impunity 
of  the  offenders.  Then,  and  not  till  then,  he  conde- 
scended to  approach  the  altar,  and  to  proceed  with  the 
service  of  God. 

Ambrose  felt  his  strength ;  he  feared  not  to  assert 
that  siiperiority  of  the  altar  over  the  throne  which  was 
a  fundamental  maxim  of  his  Christianity.  There  is 
no  reason  to  ascribe  to  ostentation,  or  to  sacerdotal 
ambition,  rather  than  to  the  profound  conviction  of  his 
mind,  the  dignity  which  he  vindicated  for  the  priest- 
hood, the  authority  supreme  and  without  appeal  in  all 
things  which  related  to  the  ceremonial  of  religion. 
Theodosius  endured,  and  the  people  applauded,  the 
public  exclusion  of  the  emperor  from  within  the  im- 
passable rails,  which  fenced  off  the  officiating  priest- 
hood  from  the   profane   laity.      An    exemption    had 

1  "  Hac  proposita  conditione,  puto  dicturum  episcopum,  quod  ipse  ignes 
sparserit,  turbas  compulerit,  populos  concluserit,  ne  amittat  occasionem  mar- 
ts'rii,  ut  pro  invalidis  subjiciat  validiorem.  O  beatum  mendacium  quo  adqui- 
ritur  sibi  aliorum  absolutio,  sui  gratia.  Hoc  est,  Imperator,  quod  poposci 
et  ego,  ut  in  me  magis  vindicares,  et  hoc  si  crimen  putares  mihi  adscri- 
beres.  Quid  mandas  in  absentes  judicium?  Habes  praesentem,  babes  con- 
fitentem  reum.  Proclamo,  quod  ego  synagogam  incenderim,  cert6  quod  ego 
illis  mandaverim,  ne  esset  locus,  in  quo  Christus  negaretur.  Si  objiciatur 
mihi,  cur  hie  non  incenderim?  Divino  jam  coepit  cremari  judicio;  meum 
cessavit  opus."  —  Epist.  xxiv.  p.  561. 


170  MASSACRE  OF   THESSALONICA.  Book  III. 

usually  been  made  for  the  sacred  person  of  the  empe- 
ror, and,  according  to  this  usage,  Theodosius  ven- 
tured within  the  forbidden  precincts.  Ambrose,  with 
lofty  courtesy,  pointed  to  the  seat  or  throne  reserved 
for  the  emperor,  at  the  head  of  the  laity.  Theodosius 
submitted  to  the  rebuke,  and  withdrew  to  the  lowlier 
station. 

But  if  these  acts  of  Ambrose  might  to  some  appear 
unwise  or  unwarrantable  aggressions  on  the  dignity  of 
the  civil  magistrate,  or  if  to  the  prophetic  sagacity  of 
others  they  might  foreshow  the  growth  of  an  enormous 
and  irresponsible  authority,  and  awaken  well-grounded 
apprehension  or  jealousy,  the  Roman  world  could  not 
withhold  its  admiration  from  another  act  of  the  Milan- 
ese prelate.  It  could  not  but  hail  the  appearance  of  a 
new  moral  power,  enlisted  on  the  side  of  humanity  and 
justice,  —  a  power  which  could  bow  the  loftiest,  as  well 
as  the  meanest,  under  its  dominion.  For  the  first 
time  since  the  establishment  of  the  imperial  despotism, 
the  voice  of  a  subject  was  heard  in  deliberate,  public, 
and  authoritative  condemnation  of  a  deed  of  atrocious 
tyranny  and  sanguinary  vengeance ;  for  the  first  time, 
an  Emperor  of  Rome  trembled  before  public  opinion, 
and  humbled  himself  to  a  contrite  confession  of  guilt 
and  cruelty. 

With  all  his  wisdom  and  virtue,  Theodosius  was  lia- 
Massacre  of  ^^^  ^^  paroxysms  of  furious  and  ungovernable 
Thessaionica.  aj^ggp^    ^  disputc  had  ariscu  in  Thessalonica 

A  D  390 

about  a  favorite  charioteer  in  the  circus  ;  out 
of  the  dispute,  a  sedition,  in  which  some  lives  were  lost. 
The  imperial  officers,  who  interfered  to  suppress  the 
fray,  were  wounded  or  slain,  and  Botheric,  the  repre- 
sentative of  the  emperor,  treated  with  indignity.  Not- 
withstanding every  attempt  on  the  part  of  the  clergy  to 


Chap.  X.  MASSACRE  OF  THESSALONICA.  171 

allay  the  furious  resentment  of  Theodosius,  the  coun- 
sels of  the  more  violent  advisers  prevailed.  Secret 
orders  were  issued  ;  the  circus,  filled  with  the  whole 
population  of  the  city,  was  surrounded  by  troops,  and 
a  general  and  indiscriminate  massacre  of  all  ages  and 
sexes,  the  guilty  and  the  innocent,  revenged  the  insult 
on  the  imperial  dignity.  Seven  thousand  lives  were 
sacrificed  in  this  remorseless  carnage. 

On  the  first  intelligence  of  this  atrocity,  Ambrose, 
with  prudent  self-command,  kept  aloof  from  the  ex- 
asperated emperor.  He  retired  into  the  country,  and 
a  letter  from  his  own  hand  was  delivered  to  the  sover- 
eign. The  letter  expressed  the  horror  of  Ambrose 
and  his  brother  bishops  at  this  inhuman  deed,  in 
which  he  should  consider  himself  an  accomplice  if  he 
could  refrain  from  expressing  his  detestation  of  its 
guilt ;  if  he  should  not  refuse  to  communicate  with  a 
man  stained  witli  the  innocent  blood,  not  of  one,  but 
of  thousands.  He  exhorts  Theodosius  to  penitence ; 
he  promises  to  offer  prayers  in  his  behalf.  He  acted 
up  to  his  declaration  ;  the  emperor  of  the  world  found 
the  doors  of  the  church  closed  against  him.  For 
eight  months  he  endured  this  ignominious  exclusion. 
Even  on  the  sacred  day  of  the  Nativity,  Theodosius 
implored  in  vain  to  bo  admitted  within  those  precincts 
which  were  open  to  the  slave  and  to  the  beggar, — 
those  precincts  which  were  the  vestibule  to  heaven, 
for  through  the  Church  alone  was  heaven  to  be  ap- 
proached. Submission  and  remonstrance  were  alike 
in  vain :  to  an  urgent  minister  of  the  sovereign,  Am- 
brose calmly  replied,  that  the  emperor  might  kill  him, 
and  pass  over  his  body  into  the  sanctuary. 

At  length  Ambrose  consented  to  admit  the  emperor 
to  an  audience ;  with  difficulty  he  was  persuaded  to 


1T2  PUBLIC  PENANCE  OF  THE  EMPEROR.       Book  III 

permit  him  to  enter,  not  into  the  church  itself,  but 
into  the  outer  porch,  the  place  of  the  public  penitents. 
At  length  the  interdict  was  removed  on  two  conditions, 
—  that  the  emperor  should  issue  an  edict  prohibiting 
the  execution  of  capital  punishments  for  thirty  days 
after  conviction,  and  that  he  should  submit  to  public 
penance.  Stripped  of  his  imperial  ornaments,  pros- 
trate on  the  pavement,  beating  his  breast,  tearing  his 
hair,  watering  the  ground  with  his  tears,  the  master 
of  the  Roman  empire,  the  conqueror  in  so  many 
victories,  the  legislator  of  the  world,  at  length  re- 
ceived the  hard-wrung  absolution. 

This  was  the  culminating  point  of  pure  Christian 
influence.  Christianity  appeared  before  the  world  as 
the  champion  and  vindicator  of  outraged  humanity ; 
as  having  founded  a  tribunal  of  justice,  which  ex- 
tended its  protective  authority  over  the  meanest,  and 
suspended  its  retributive  penalties  over  the  mightiest, 
of  mankind. 

Nearly  at  the  same  time  (about  four  years  before) 
First  capital  ^^^^  hoQii  rcvcalcd  the  latent  danger  from  this 
fo'JteUgion!  ^®^^  unlimited  sovereignty  over  the  human 
A.D.  385.  i]QLind.  The  first  hlood  was  jitdicially  shed 
for  religious  opinion.  Far,  however,  from  apprehend- 
ing the  fatal  consequences  which  might  arise  out  of 
their  own  exclusive  and  intolerant  sentiments,  or  fore- 
seeing that  the  sacerdotal  authority,  which  they  fondly 
and  sincerely  supposed  they  were  strengthening  for 
the  unalloyed  welfare  of  mankind,  would  seize  and 
wield  the  sword  of  persecution  with  such  remorseless 
and  unscrupulous  severity,  this  first  fatal  libation  of 
Christian  blood,  which  was  the  act  of  an  usurping 
emperor  and  of  a  few  foreign  bishops,  was  solemnly 
disclaimed  by  all  the  more  influential  dignitaries  of 


Chap.  X.  MARTIN  OF  TOURS.  173 

the  Western  Church.      Priscillian,  a  noole  and  elo- 
quent Spaniard,  had  embraced  some  Mani-  Prisciman 
chean  or  rather  Gnostic  opinions.     The  same  wrs'f 
contradictory  accusations   of  the   severest  asceticism 
and  of  licentious  habits,  which  were  so  perpetually 
adduced   against  the  Manicheans,  formed   the   chief 
charge   against   PrisciUian   and   his   followers.      The 
leaders  of  the  sect  had  taken  refuge,  from  the  perse- 
cutions of  their  countrymen,  in  Gaul,  and  propagated 
their   opinions   to   some   extent  in  Aquitaine.     Tliey 
were  pursued  with  unwearied  animosity  by  the  Spanish 
bishops  Ithacius  and  Idacius.      Maximus,  the  usurp- 
ing emperor   of  Gaul,  who  then  resided  at  Treves, 
took  cognizance  of  the  case.     In  vain  the    Martin  of 
celebrated  Martin  of  Tours,  whose  life  was    ^'^'''■** 
almost  an  unwearied  campaign  against  idolatry,  and 
whose  unrelenting  hand  had  demolished  every  religious 
edifice  within  his  reach,  —  a  prelate  whose  dread  of 
heresy  was  almost  as  sensitive  as  of  Paganism,  —  urged 
his   protest   against   these   proceedings    with   all   the 
vehemence  of  his  character.     During  his  absence,  a 
capital    sentence    was    extorted    from    the    emperor ; 
Priscillian  and  some  of  his  followers  were  put  to  death 
by  the  civil  authority  for  the  crime  of  religious  error. 
The  fatal  precedent  was  disowned  by  the  general  voice 
of   Christianity.      It   required    another    considerable 
period  of  ignorance  and  bigotry  to  deaden  the  fine 
moral  sense  of  Christianity  to  the  total  abandonment 
of  its   spirit   of  love.     When   Ambrose   re-  conduct  c 
proached  the  usurper  with  the  murder  of  his  ^°^^'^"^^- 
sovereign    Gratian,    he    reminded    him    likewise    of 
the   unjust   execution   of  the   Priscillianists ;   he  re- 
fused to  communicate  with  the  bishops  who  had  any 


174  VALENTINIAN  —  THEODOSIUS- AMBROSE.     Book  III. 

concern  in  that  sanguinary  and  unchristian  transac- 
tion.i 

Ambrose  witnessed  and  lamented  the  death  of 
AD. 392.  the  young  Valentinian,  over  whom  he  pro- 
vaieutinian.  nouuccd  Q,  fuucral  oratiou.  On  the  usurpa- 
A.D.393.  ^Iqj^  q£  ^i^Q  Pagan  Eugenius,  he  fled  from 
Milan ;  but  returned  to  behold  and  to  applaud  the 
triumph  of  Theodosius.  Tlie  conquering  emperor 
gave  a  new  proof  of  his  homage  to  Christianity  and 
to  its  representative.  Under  the  influence  of  Am- 
brose, he  refrained  for  a  time  from  communicating 
in  the  Christian  mysteries,  because  his  hands  were 
stained  with  blood,  though  that  blood  had  been  shed 
Death  of        in  a  just  and  necessary  war.-     To  Ambrose 

Theodosius.      , ,         t    .  j    j   i  •  j 

A.D.  395.  the  dying  emperor  commended  his  sons,  and 
the  Bishop  of  Milan  pronounced  the  funeral  oration 
over  the  last  great  emperor  of  the  world. 

He  did  not  long  survive  his  imperial  friend.     It  is 

related,  that,  when  Ambrose  was  on  his 
A^broL       death-bed,  Stilicho,  apprehending  the  loss  of 

such  a  man  to  Italy  and  to  Christendom, 
urged  the  principal  inhabitants  of  Milan  to  entreat 
the  efiective  prayers  of  the  bishop  for  his  own  re- 
covery. "I  have  not  so  lived  among  you,"  replied 
Ambrose,  "as  to  be  ashamed  to  live ;  I  have  so  good 
a  Master,  that  I  am  not  afraid  to  die."  Ambrose  ex- 
pired in  the  attitude  and  in  the  act  of  prayer. 

While  Ambrose  was  thus  assuming  an  unprece- 
dented supremacy  over  his  own  age,  and  deepening 
and  strengthening  the  foundation  of  the  ecclesiastical 
power,  Augustine  was   beginning   gradually  to   con- 

1  Ambros.  Epist.  xxiv.  The  whole  transaction  in  Sulpicius  Sever.,  E.  H. 
and  Life  of  St.  Martin. 

a  Oratio  de  Obitu  Theodos.  34. 


Chap.  X.  AUGUSTINE.  175 

summate  that  total  change  in  human  opinion  which 
was  to  influence  the  Christianity  of  the  remotest  ages. 
Of  all  Christian  writers  since  the  apostles,  Augus- 
tine has  maintained  the  most  permanent  and  W^^ 

•     n  mi  •     n  •      T        n       Augustine. 

extensive  influence,  ihat  influence,  indeed, 
v/as  unfelt,  or  scarcely  felt,  in  the  East;  but  as  the 
P]ast  gradually  became  more  estranged,  till  it  was  little 
more  than  a  blank  in  Christian  history,  tlie  dominion 
of  Augustine  over  the  opinions  of  the  Western  world 
was  eventually  over  the  whole  of  Christendom.  Basil 
and  Chrysostom  spoke  a  language  foreign  or  dead  to 
the  greater  part  of  the  Christian  world.  The  Greek 
empire,  after  the  reign  of  Justinian,  gradually  con- 
tracting its  limits  and  sinking  into  abject  superstition, 
forgot  its  own  great  writers  on  the  more  momentous 
subjects  of  religion  and  morality,  for  new  contro- 
versialists on  frivolous  and  insignificant  points  of 
difierence.  The  more  important  feuds,  as  of  Nestori- 
anism,  made  little  progress  in  the  West ;  the  West 
repudiated  almost  with  one  voice  the  iconoclastic 
opinions ;  and  at  length  Mohammedanism  swept  away 
its  fairest  provinces,  and  limited  the  Greek  Church  to 
a  still  narrowing  circle.  The  Latin  language  thus 
became  almost  that  of  Christianity ;  Latin  writers, 
the  sole  authority  to  which  men  appealed,  or  from 
which  they  imperceptibly  imbibed  the  tone  of  religious 
doctrine  or  sentiment.  Of  these,  Augustine  was  the 
most  universal,  the  most  commanding,  the  most  in-  l^ 
fluential. 

The  earliest  Christian  writers  had  not  been  able  or 
willing  altogether  to  decline  some  of  the  more  obvious 
and  prominent  points  of  the  Augustinian  theology ; 
but  in  his  works  they  were  first  wrought  up  into  a 
regular  system.     Abstruse  topics,  which  had  been  but 


176  AUGUSTINIAN  THEOLOGY.  Book  III. 

slightly  touched,  or  dimly  hinted  in  the  apostolic  writ- 
ings, and  of  which  the  older  creeds  had  been  entirely 
silent,  became  the  prominent  and  unavoidable  tenets 
of  Christian  doctrine.  Augustinianism  has  constantly 
revived,  in  all  its  strongest  and  most  peremptory  state- 
ments, in  every  period  of  religious  excitement.  In 
later  days,  it  formed  much  of  the  doctrinal  system  of 
Luther ;  it  was  worked  up  into  a  still  more  rigid  and 
uncompromising  system  by  the  severe  intellect  of  Cal 
vin ;  it  was  remoulded  into  the  Roman  Catholic  doc- 
trine by  Jansenius :  the  popular  theology  of  most  of  the 
Protestant  sects  is  but  a  modified  Augustinianism. 

Christianity  had  now  accomplished  its  divine  mis 
Augustinian  siou,  SO  far  as  impregnating  the  Roman  world 
theology.  ^-^1^  -^g  f^^,g^  principles,  — the  unity  of  God, 
the  immortality  of  the  soul,  and  future  retribution. 
These  vital  questions  between  the  old  Paganism  and 
the  new  religion  had  been  decided  by  their  almost 
general  adoption  into  the  common  sentiments  of  man- 
kind. And  now  questions  naturally  and  necessarily 
arising  out  of  the  providential  government  of  that 
Supreme  Deity,  out  of  that  conscious  immortality, 
and  out  of  that  acknowledged  retribution,  had  begun 
profoundly  to  agitate  the  human  heart.  The  nature 
of  man  had  been  stirred  in  its  inmost  depths.  The 
hopes  and  fears,  now  centred  on  another  state  of 
being,  were  ever  restlessly  hovering  over  the  abyss 
into  which  they  were  forced  to  gaze.  As  men  were 
not  merely  convinced,  but  deeply  penetrated,  with  the 
belief  that  they  had  souls  to  be  saved,  the  means,  the 
process,  the  degree  of  attainable  assurance  concerning 
salvation,  became  subjects  of  anxious  inquiry.  Every 
kind  of  information  on  these  momentous  topics  Avas 
demanded  with  importunity,  and  hailed  with  eagerness. 


Chap.  X.  AUGUSTINIAN  THEOLOGY.  177 

With  the  ancient  philosophy,  the  moral  condition  of 
man  was  a  much  simpler  and  calmer  subject  of  con- 
sideration. It  could  coldly  analyze  every  emotion, 
trace  the  workings  of  every  passion,  and  present  its 
results  ;  if  in  eloquent  language,  kindling  the  mind  of 
the  hearer,  rather  by  that  language,  than  by  the  excite- 
ment of  the  inquiry.  It  was  the  attractive  form  of 
the  philosophy,  the  adventitious  emotion  produced  by 
bold  paradox,  happy  invention,  acute  dialectics,  which 
amused  and  partially  enlightened  the  inquisitive  mind. 
But  now,  mingled  up  with  religion,  every  sensation, 
every  feeling,  every  propensity,  every  thought,  had 
become  not  merely  a  symptom  of  the  moral  condition, 
but  an  element  in  that  state  of  spiritual  advancement 
or  deterioration  which  was  to  be  weighed  and  ex- 
amined in  the  day  of  Judgment.  The  ultimate  and 
avowed  object  of  philosophy,  the  summum  honum,,  the 
greatest  attainable  happiness,  shrunk  into  an  unimpor- 
tant consideration.  These  were  questions  of  spiritual 
life  and  death,  and  the  solution  was  therefore  em- 
braced rather  by  the  will  and  the  passions,  than  by 
the  cool  and  sober  reason.  This  solution  in  all  these 
difficulties  was  the  more  acceptable  in  proportion  as  it 
was  peremptory  and  dogmatic.  Any  thing  could  be 
endured  rather  than  uncertainty ;  and  Augustine  him- 
self was,  doubtless,  urged  more  by  the  desire  of  peace 
to  his  own  anxious  spirit  than  by  the  ambition  of 
dictating  to  Christianity  on  these  abstruse  topics. 
The  influence  of  Augustine  thus  concentred  the  Chris- 
tian mind  on  subjects  to  which  Christianity  led, 
but  did  not  answer  with  fulness  or  precision.  The 
Gospels  and  apostolic  writings  paused  within  the 
border  of  attainable  human  knowledge:  Augustine 
fearlessly  rushed  forward,  or  was  driven  by  his  antago- 

v'iL.  III.  12 


178  AUGUSTINIAN  THEOLOGY.  Book  III. 

nists ;  and  partly  from  the  reasonings  of  a  new  reli- 
gious philosophy,  partly  by  general  inferences  from 
limited  and  particular  phrases  in  the  sacred  writings, 
framed  a  complete,  it  must  be  acknowledged,  and  as 
far  as  its  own  consistency,  an  harmonious  system,  but 
of  which  it  was  the  inevitable  tendency  to  give  an 
overpowering  importance  to  problems  on  which  Chris- 
tianity, wisely  measuring,  it  should  seem,  the  capacity 
of  the  human  mind,  had  declined  to  utter  any  final 
or  authoritative  decrees.  Almost  up  to  this  period  in 
Christian  history,^  on  these  mysterious  topics,  all  was 
unquestioned  and  undefined ;  and  though  they  could 
not  but  cross  the  path  of  Christian  reasoning,  and 
could  not  but  be  incidentally  noticed,  they  had,  as  yet, 
undergone  no  full  or  direct  investigation.  Nothing 
but  the  calmest  and  firmest  philosophy  could  have 
avoided  or  eluded  these  points,  on  which,  though  the 
human  mind  could  not  attain  to  knowledge,  it  was 
impatient  of  ignorance.  The  immediate  or  more 
remote,  the  direct  or  indirect,  the  sensible  or  the  im- 
perceptible, influence  of  the  divine  agency  (grace)  on 
the  human  soul,  with  the  inseparable  consequences  of 
necessity  and  free-will,  thus  became  the  absorbing  and 
agitating  points  of  Christian  doctrine.  From  many 
causes,  these  inevitable  questions  had  forced  them- 
selves, at  this  period,  on  the  general  attention.  Mani- 
cheism  on  one  hand,  Pelagianism  on  the  other,  stirred 
up  their  darkest  depths.  The  Christian  mind  de- 
manded on  all  these  topics  at  once  excitement  and 
rest.  Nothing  could  be  more  acceptable  than  the 
unhesitating  and  peremptory  decisions  of  Augustine. 
His  profound  piety  ministered  perpetual  emotion ;  his 

1  In  the  Historia  Pelagiana  of  Vossius  may  be  found  quotations  express- 
ive of  the  sentiments  of  the  earlier  Fathers  on  many  of  these  points. 


Chap.  X.  AUGUSTINIAN  THEOLOGY.  179 

glowing  and  perspicuous  language,  his  confident  dog- 
matism, and  the  apparent  completeness  of  his  system, 
offered  repose. 

But  the  primary  principle  of  the  Augustinian  theol- 
ogy was  already  deeply  rooted  in  the  awe-struck  piety 
of  the  Christian  world.  In  this  state  of  the  general 
mind,  that  which  brought  the  Deity  more  directly  and 
more  perpetually  in  contact  with  the  soul,  at  once 
enlisted  all  minds  which  were  under  the  shadow  of 
religious  fears,  or  softened  by  any  milder  religious 
feeling.  It  was  not  a  remote  supremacy,  a  govern- 
ment through  unseen  and  untraceable  influences,  a 
general  reverential  trust  in  the  divine  protection, 
which  gave  satisfaction  to  the  agitated  spirit ;  but  an 
actually  felt  and  immediate  presence,  operating  on 
each  particular  and  most  minute  part  of  the  creation ; 
not  a  regular  and  unvarying  emanation  of  the  divine 
will,  but  a  special  and  peculiar  intervention  in  each 
separate  case.  The  whole  course  of  human  events, 
and  the  moral  condition  of  each  individual,  were  alike 
under  the  acknowledged,  or  conscious  and  direct, 
operation  of  the  Deity.  But  the  more  distinct  and 
unquestioned  this  principle,  the  more  the  problem 
which  in  a  different  form  had  agitated  the  Eastern 
world,  —  the  origin  of  evil,  —  forced  itself  on  the 
consideration.  In  the  East,  it  had  taken  a  kind  of 
speculative  or  theogonical  turn,  and  allied  itself  with 
physical  notions :  in  the  West,  it  became  a  moral  and 
practical,  and  almost  every-day  question,  involving  the 
prescience  of  God  and  the  freedom  of  the  human  soul. 
Augustine  had  rejected  Manicheism ;  the  antagonistic 
and  equally  conflicting  powers  of  that  system  had 
offended  his  high  conception  of  the  supremacy  of 
God.    Still,  his  earlier  Manicheism  lent  an  unconscious 


180  AUGUSTINIAN   THEOLOGY.  Book  III. 

coloring  to  his  maturer  opinions.  In  another  form, 
he  divided  the  world  into  regions  of  cloudless  light 
and  total  darkness.  But  he  did  not  mingle  the  Deity 
in  any  way  in  the  darkness  which  enveloped  the  whole 
of  mankind,  a  chosen  portion  of  which  alone  were 
rescued  by  the  gracious  intervention  of  the  Redeemer 
and  the  Holy  Spirit.  The  rest  were  separated  by  an 
insuperable  barrier,  that  of  hereditary  evil ;  they  bore 
within  the  fatal  and  inevitable  proscription.  Within 
the  pale  of  Election  was  the  world  of  Light ;  without, 
the  world  of  Perdition;  and  the  human  soul  was  so 
reduced  to  a  subordinate  agent  before  the  mysterious 
and  inscrutable  power,  which,  by  the  infusion  of  faith, 
rescued  it  from  its  inveterate  hereditary  propensity, 
as  to  become  entirely  passive,  altogether  annihilated, 
in  overleaping  the  profound  though  narrow  gulf 
which  divided  the  two  kingdoms  of  Grace  and  of  Per- 
dition. 

Thus  that  system  which  assigned  the  most  un- 
bounded and  universal  influence  to  the  Deity  was 
seized  upon  by  devout  piety  as  the  truth  which  it 
would  be  an  impious  limitation  of  Omnipotence  to 
question.  Man  offered  his  free  agency  on  the  altar 
of  his  religion,  and  forgot  that  he  thereby  degraded 
the  most  wonderful  work  of  Omnipotence,  a  being 
endowed  with  free  agency.  While  the  internal  con- 
sciousness was  not  received  as  sufficient  evidence 
of  the  freedom  of  the  will,  it  was  considered  as  unques- 
tionable testimony  to  the  operations  of  divine  grace. 

At  all  events,  these  questions  now  became  unavoid- 
able articles  of  the  Christian  faith.  From  this  time 
the  simpler  Apostolic  Creed,  and  the  splendid  ampli- 
fications of  the  divine  attributes  of  the  Trinity,  were 
enlarged,  if  not  by  stern   definitions,  by  dictatorial 


Chap.  X.  PELAGIANISM.  181 

axioms  on  original  sin,  on  grace,  predestination,  the 
total  depravity  of  mankind,  election  to  everlasting  life, 
and  final  reprobation.  To  the  appellations  which 
awoke  what  was  considered  righteous  and  legitimate 
hatred  in  all  true  believers,  —  Arianism  and  Mani- 
cheism,  —  was  now  added,  as  a  term  of  equal  obloquy, 
Pelagianism.i 

1  The  doctrines  of  Pelagius  have  been  represented  as  arising  out  of  the 
monastic  spirit,  or  at  least  out  of  one  form  of  its  influence.  The  high  ideal 
of  moral  perfection  (it  has  been  said)  which  the  monk  set  before  himself,  the 
conscious  strength  of  will  which  was  necessary  to  aspire  to  that  height,  the 
proud  impatience  and  disdain  of  the  ordinarj^  excuse  for  infirmity,  the  inherit- 
ed weakness  and  depravity  of  human  nature,  induced  the  colder  and  more 
severe  Pelagius  to  embrace  his  peculiar  tenets,  —  the  rejection  of  original  sin, 
the  assertion  of  the  entire  freedom  of  the  will,  the  denial  or  limitation  of  the 
influence  of  divine  gi'ace.  Of  the  personal  history  of  Pelagius  little  is  known, 
except  that  he  was  a  British  or  French  monk  (his  name  is  said,  in  one  tradi- 
tion, to  have  been  Morgan),  but  neither  he  nor  his  colleague  Cielestius  appears 
to  have  been  a  secluded  ascetic :  they  dwelt  in  Rome  for  some  time,  where 
they  propagated  their  doctrines.  Of  his  character  perhaps  still  less  is  known, 
imless  from  his  tenets,  and  some  fragments  of  his  writings,  preserved  by  his 
adversaries ;  excepting  that  the  blamelessness  of  his  manners  is  admitted  by 
his  adversaries  (the  term  "  egi'egie  Christianus  "  is  the  expression  of  St.  Au- 
gustine) ;  and  even  the  violent  Jerome  bears  testimony  to  his  innocence  of  life. 

But  the  tenets  of  Augustine  appear  to  flow  more  directly  from  the  mo- 
nastic system.  His  doctrines  (in  his  controversy  with  Pelagius,  for  in  his 
other  ■s\Titings  he  holds  another  tone)  are  tinged  with  the  Encratite  or  Mani- 
chean  notion,  that  there  was  a  physical  transmission  of  sin  in  the  propagation 
of  children,  even  in  lawful  marriage.  (See,  among  other  writers,  Jer.  Tay- 
lor's Vindication  of  his  Deus  Justiticatus.)  Even  this  "  concupiscentia  car- 
nis  peccatum  est,  quia  inest  illi  inobedientia  contra  dominatum  mentis."  — 
De  Pecc.  Eemis.  i.  3.  This  is  the  old  doctrine  of  the  inherent  evil  of  matter. 
We  are  astonished  that  Augustine,  who  had  been  a  father,  and  a  fond  father, 
though  of  an  illegitimate  son,  could  be  driven,  by  the  stern  logic  of  polemics, 
to  the  damnation  of  unbaptized  infants,  —  a  milder  damnation,  it  is  true,  to 
eternal  fire.  This  was  the  more  genuine  doctrine  of  men  in  whose  hearts  aU 
the  sweet  charities  of  life  had  been  long  seared  up  by  monastic  discipline ; 
men  like  Fulgentius,  to  whose  name  the  title  of  saint  is  prefixed,  and  who 
lays  down  this  benignant  and  Christian  axiom:  "  Firmissim^  tene  et  nulla- 
tenus  dubites,  parvulos,  sive  in  uteris  matrum  vivere  incipiunt,  et  ibi  mori- 
untur,  sive  cum  de  matribus  uati,  sine  sacramento  sancto  baptismatis  de  hoc 
seculo  transeunt,  ignis  ceterni  semjnierno  supplicio puniendos.^''  —  Fulgentius  de 
Fide,  quoted  in  Vossius,  Hist.  Pelag.  p.  257. 

The  assertion  of  the  entire  freedom  of  the  will,  and  the  restricted  sense  in 


182  AUGUSTINE.  Book  III. 

Augustine,  by  the  extraordinary  adaptation  of  his 
genius  to  his  own  age,  the  comprehensive  grandeur  of 
his  views,  the  intense  earnestness  of  his  character,  his 
inexhaustible  activity,  the  vigor,  warmth,  and  per- 
spicuity of  his  style,  had  a  right  to  command  the  hom- 
age of  Western  Christendom.  He  was  at  once  the  first 
universal,  and  the  purest  and  most  powerful  of  the 
Latin  Christian  writers.  It  is  singular  that  almost  all 
the  earlier  Christian  authors  in  the  West  were  pro- 
vincials chiefly  of  Africa.  But  the  works  of  Tertullian 
were,  in  general,  brief  treatises  on  temporary  subjects 
of  controversy  ;  if  enlivened  by  the  natural  vehemence 
and  strength  of  the  man,  disfigured  by  the  worst  bar- 
barisms of  style.  The  writings  of  Cyprian  were  chiefly 
short  epistles  or  treatises  on  subjects  of  immediate  or 
local  interest.  Augustine  retained  the  fervor  and 
energy  of  the  African  style  with  much  purer  and  more 
perspicuous  Latinity.  His  ardent  imagination  was 
tempered  by  reasoning  powers  which  boldly  grappled 
with  every  subject.  He  possessed  and  was  unembar- 
rassed by  the  possession  of  all  the  knowledge  which 
had  been  accumulated  in  the  Roman  world.  He  com- 
manded the  whole  range  of  Latin  literature ;  and  per- 
haps his  influence  over  his  own  hemisphere  was  not 
diminished  by  his  ignorance,  or  at  best  imperfect  and 

whicli  Pelagius  appears  to  have  received  the  doctrine  of  divine  grace,  con- 
fining it  to  the  influences  of  the  divine  revelation,  appear  to  arise  out  of 
philosophical  reasonings  rather  than  out  of  the  monastic  spirit.  The  severe 
monastic  discipline  was  more  likely  to  infuse  the  sense  of  the  slavery  of  the 
will;  and  the  brooding  over  bodily  and  mental  emotions,  the  general  cause 
and  result  of  the  monastic  spirit,  would  tend  to  exaggerate,  rather  than  to 
question  or  limit,  the  actual  and  even  sensible  workings  of  the  divine  spirit 
within  the  soul.  The  calmer  temperament,  indeed,  and  probably  more 
peaceful  religious  development  of  Pelagius,  may  have  disposed  him  to  his 
system ;  as  the  more  vehement  character  and  agitated  religious  life  of  Au- 
gustine to  his  vindication,  founded  on  his  internal  experience,  of  the  constant 
divine  agency  upon  the  heart  and  the  soul. 


Chap.  X.  AUGUSTINE.  183 

late-acquired  acquaintance  with  Greek.^  But  all  his 
knowledge  and  all  his  acquirements  fell  into  the  train 
of  his  absorbing  religious  sentiments  or  passions.  On 
the  subjects  with  which  he  was  conversant,  a  calm  and 
dispassionate  philosophy  would  have  been  indignantly 
repudiated  by  the  Christian  mind,  and  Augustine's 
temperament  was  too  much  in  harmony  with  that  of 
the  time  to  offend  by  deficiency  in  fervor.  It  was 
profound  religious  agitation,  not  cold  and  abstract 
truth,  which  the  age  required ;  the  emotions  of  piety, 
rather  than  the  convictions  of  severe  logical  inquiry ; 
and  in  Augustine,  the  depth  or  abstruseness  of  the 
matter  never  extinguished  or  allayed  the  passion,  or, 
in  one  sense,  the  popularity  of  his  style.  At  difierent 
periods  of  his  life,  Augustine  aspired  to  and  succeeded 
in  enthralling  all  the  various  powers  and  faculties  of 
the  human  mind.  That  life  was  the  type  of  his  the- 
ology ;  and  as  it  passed  through  its  various  changes 
of  age,  of  circumstance,  and  of  opinion,  it  left  its  own 
impressions  strongly  and  permanently  stamped  upon 
the  whole  of  Latin  Christianity.  The  gentleness  of  his 
childhood,  the  passions  of  his  youth,  the  studies  of 
his  adolescence,  the  wilder  dreams  of  his  immature 
Christianity,  the  Manicheism,  the  intermediate  stage 
of  Platonism,  through  which  he  passed  into  ortho- 
doxy, the  fervor  with  which  he  embraced,  the  vigor 
with  which  he  developed,  the  unhesitating  confi- 
dence with  which  he  enforced  his  final  creed,  —  all 
affected  more  or  less  the  general  mind.  His  Confes- 
sions became  the  manual  of  all  those  who  were  forced 
by  their  temperament  or  inclined  by  their  disposition 

1  On  St.  Augustine's  knowledge  of  Greek,  compare  Tillemont,  in  his 
Life,  p.  7.  Punic  was  still  spoken  by  the  common  people  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  Carthage. 


184  HIS  CHILDHOOD.  Book  III. 

to  brood  over  the  inward  sensations  of  their  own 
minds  ;  to  trace  within  themselves  all  the  trepidations, 
the  misgivings,  the  agonies,  the  exultations,  of  the 
religious  conscience  ;  the  gradual  formation  of  opinions 
till  they  harden  into  dogmas,  or  warm  into  objects  of 
ardent  passion.  Since  Augustine,  this  internal  auto- 
biography of  the  soul  has  always  had  the  deepest  in- 
terest for  those  of  strong  religious  convictions  :  it  was 
what  multitudes  had  felt,  but  no  one  had  yet  embodied 
in  words  ;  it  was  the  appalling  yet  attractive  manner  in 
which  men  beheld  all  the  conflicts  and  adventures  of 
their  own  spiritual  life  reflected  with  bold  and  speak- 
ing truth.  Men  shrunk  from  the  divine  and  unap- 
proachable image  of  Christian  perfection  in  the  life 
of  the  Redeemer,  to  the  more  earthly,  more  familiar 
picture  of  the  development  of  the  Christian  character, 
crossed  with  the  light  and  shade  of  human  weakness 
and  human  passion. 

The  religious  was  more  eventful  than  the  civil  life 
of  St.  Augustine.  He  was  born  A.D.  354,  in  Tagasta, 
an  episcopal  city  of  Numidia.  His  parents  were 
Christians  of  respectable  rank.  In  his  childhood,  he 
was  attacked  by  a  dangerous  illness ;  he  entreated 
to  be  baptized.  His  mother,  Monica,  took  the  alarm ; 
all  was  prepared  for  that  solemn  ceremony ;  but,  on 
his  recovery,  it  was  deferred,  and  Augustine  remained 
for  some  years  in  the  humbler  rank  of  catechumen. 
He  received  the  best  education,  in  grammar  and  rhet- 
oric, which  the  neio-hborino:  city  of  Madaura 

A.D.  371.  '  to  &  J 

could  afford.  At  seventeen,  he  was  sent  to 
Carthage  to  finish  his  studies.  Augustine  has,  per- 
haps, highly  colored  both  the  idleness  of  his  period  of 
study  in  Madaura,  and  the  licentious  habits  to  which 
he  abandoned  himself  in  the  dissolute  city  of  Carthage. 


Chap.  X.  AUGUSTINE  —  HIS  CONVERSION.  185 

His  ardent  mind  plunged  into  the  intoxicating  enjoy- 
ments of  the  theatre,  and  his  excited  passions  demanded 
every  kind  of  gratification.  He  had  a  natural  son, 
called  by  the  somewhat  inappropriate  name  A-deo 
datus.  He  was  first  arrested  in  his  sensual  course, 
not  by  the  solemn  voice  of  religion,  but  by  the  gentler 
remonstrances  of  Pagan  literature.  He  learned  from 
Cicero,  not  from  the  Gospel,  the  higher  dignity  of 
intellectual  attainments.  From  his  brilliant  success 
in  his  studies,  it  is  clear  that  his  life,  if  yielding  at 
times  to  the  temptations  of  youth,  was  not  a  course 
of  indolence  or  total  abandonment  to  pleasure.  It 
was  the  Hortensius  of  Cicero  which  awoke  his  mind 
to  nobler  aspirations  and  to  the  contempt  of  worldly 
enjoyments. 

But  philosophy  could  not  satisfy  the  lofty  desires 
which  it  had  awakened:  Augustine  panted  for  some 
better  hopes,  and  more  satisfactory  objects  of  study. 
He  turned  to  the  religion  of  his  parents,  but  his  mind 
was  not  subdued  to  a  feeling  for  the  inimitable  beauty 
of  the  New  Testament.  Its  simplicity  of  style  appeared 
rude,  after  the  stately  march  of  Tully's  eloquence. 
But  Manicheism  seized  at  once  upon  his  kindled  imagi- 
nation. For  nine  years,  from  the  age  of  nineteen  to 
twenty-eight,  the  mind  of  Augustine  wandered  among 
the  vague  and  fantastic  reveries  of  Oriental  theology. 
The  virtuous  and  holy  Monica,  with  the  anxious  appro  • 
hensions  and  prescient  hopes  of  a  mother's  heart, 
watched  over  the  irregular  development  of  his  power- 
ful faculties.  Her  distress  at  his  Manichean  errors 
was  consoled  by  an  aged  bishop,  who  had  himself  been 
involved  in  the  same  opinions.  "  Be  of  good  cheer  : 
the  child  of  so  many  tears  cannot  perish."  The  step 
against  which   she   remonstrated   most  strongly,  led 


186  AUGUSTINE.  Book  III 

to  that  result  which  she  scarcely  dared  to  hope. 
Augustine  grew  discontented  with  the  wild  Manichean 
doctrines,  which  neither  satisfied  the  religious  yearnings 
of  his  heart  nor  the  philosophical  demands  of  his 
understanding.  He  was  in  danger  of  falling  into  a 
desperate  Pyrrhonism,  or  at  best  the  proud  indifference 
of  an  Academic.  He  determined  to  seek  a  more 
distinguished  sphere  for  his  talents  as  a  teacher  of 
rhetcric ;  and,  notwithstanding  his  mother's  tears,  he 
AD  383  ^®^^  Carthage  for  Rome.  The  fame  of  his 
^tat.  29.  aijiiities  obtained  him  an  invitation  to  teach 
at  Milan.  He  was  there  within  the  magic  circle  of  the 
great  ecclesiastic  of  the  West.  But  we  cannot 
pause  to  trace  the  throes  and  pangs  of  his 
final  conversion.  The  writings  of  St.  Paul  accom- 
plished what  the  eloquence  of  Ambrose  had  begun. 
In  one  of  the  paroxysms  of  his  religious  agony,  he 
seemed  to  hear  a  voice  from  heaven,  —  "  Take  and  read, 
take  and  read."  Till  now  he  had  rejected  the  writings 
of  the  apostle ;  he  opened  on  the  passage  which  con- 
tains the  awful  denunciations  of  Paul  against  the 
dissolute  morals  of  the  Heathen.  The  conscience  of 
Augustine  recognized  "  in  the  chambering  and  wanton- 
ness ^'  the  fearful  picture  of  his  own  life ;  for,  though 
he  had  abandoned  the  looser  indulgences  of  his  youth 
(he  had  lived  in  strict  fidelity,  not  to  a  lawful  wife 
indeed,  but  to  a  concubine),  even  his  mother  was 
anxious  to  disengage  him,  by  an  honorable  marriage, 
from  the  bonds  of  a  less  legitimate  connection.  But 
he  burst  at  once  his  thraldom ;  shook  his  old  nature 
from  his  heart;  renounced  for  ever  all,  even  lawful 
indulgences,  of  the  carnal  desires  ;  forswore  the  world, 
and  withdrew  himself,  though  without  exciting  any 
unnecessary  astonishment  among  his  hearers,  from  his 


Chap.  X.  HIS  WRITINGS.  187 

profaner  function  as  teacher  of  rhetoric.  His  mother, 
who  had  followed  him  to  Milan,  lived  to  wit-  Baptism  of 
ness  his  baptism  as  a  Catholic  Christian  by  a.d.  387.  ' 
the  hands  of  Ambrose  ;  and,  in  all  the  serene  happiness 
of  her  accomplished  hopes  and  prayers,  expired  in  his 
arms  before  his  return  to  Africa.  His  son,  Adeodatus, 
who  died  a  few  years  afterwards,  was  baptized  at  the 
same  time. 

To  return  to  the  writings  of  St.  Augustine,  or  rather 
to  his  life  in  his  writings.  In  his  controversial  controversial 
treatises  against  the  Manicheans  and  against  ^"*i°s^- 
Pelagius,  Augustine  had  the  power  of  seemingly,  at 
least,  bringing  down  those  abstruse  subjects  to  popular 
comprehension.  His  vehement  and  intrepid  dogmatism 
hurried  along  the  unresisting  mind,  which  was  allowed 
no  pause  for  the  sober  examination  of  difficulties,  or 
was  awed  into  acquiescence  by  the  still-suspended 
charge  of  impiety.  The  imagination  was  at  the  same 
time  kept  awake  by  a  rich  vein  of  allegoric  interpre- 
tation, dictated  by  the  same  bold  decision,  and  enforced 
as  necessary  conclusions  from  the  sacred  writings, 
or  as  latent  truths  intentionally  wrapped  up  in  those 
mysterious  phrases. 

The  City  of  God  was  unquestionably  the  noblest 
work,  both  in  its  original  desi2:n  and  in  the 

„i  o.  11  V  1-1      City  of  God. 

fulness  of  its  elaborate  execution,  which 
the  genius  of  man  had  as  yet  contributed  to  the  sup- 
port of  Christianity.  Hitherto  the  Apologies  had  been 
framed  to  meet  particular  exigences :  they  were  either 
brief  and  pregnant  statements  of  the  Christian  doc- 
trines ;  refutations  of  prevalent  calumnies ;  invectives 
against  the  follies  and  crimes  of  Paganism ;  or  con- 
futations of  anti-Christian  works  like  those  of  Celsus, 
Porphyry,  or  Julian,  closely  following  their  course  of 


188  AUGUSTINE.  Book  III. 

argument,  and  rarely  expanding  into  general  and  com- 
prehensive views  of  the  great  conflict.  The  City  of 
God,  in  the  first  place,  indeed,  was  designed  to  decide 
for  ever  the  one  great  question,  which  alone  kept  in 
suspense  the  balance  between  Paganism  and  Chris- 
tianity, the  connection  between  the  fall  of  the  empire 
and  the  miseries  under  which  the  whole  Roman  society 
was  groaning,  with  the  desertion  of  the  ancient  religion 
of  Rome.  Even  this  part  of  his  theme  led  Augustine 
into  a  full,  and,  if  not  impartial,  yet  far  more  compre- 
hensive survey  of  the  whole  religion  and  pliilosophy 
of  antiquity  than  had  been  yet  displayed  in  any  Chris- 
tian work.  It  has  preserved  more  on  some  branches 
of  these  subjects  than  the  whole  surviving  Latin  liter- 
ature. The  City  of  God  was  not  merely  a  defence,  it  was 
likewise  an  exposition,  of  Christian  doctrine.  The  last 
twelve  books  developed  the  whole  system  with  a  regu- 
larity and  copiousness,  as  far  as  we  know,  never  before 
attempted  by  any  Christian  writer.  It  was  the  first 
complete  Christian  theology. 

The  immediate  occasion  of  this  important  work  of 
Augustine  was  worthy  of  this  powerful  con- 
centration of  his  talents  and  knowledge.    The 

Occasion  of  /-n  i  n      i 

its  compo-      capture  of  Rome  by  the  Goths  had  appalled 

sition.  ^  •'  ^  ^ 

the  whole  empire.  So  long  as  the  barbarians 
only  broke  through  the  frontiers,  or  severed  province 
after  province  from  the  dominion  of  the  emperor,  men 
could  close  their  eyes  to  the  gradual  declension  and 
decay  of  the  Roman  supremacy  ;  and,  in  the  rapid 
alternations  of  power,  the  empire,  under  some  new 
Caesar  or  Constantine,  might  again  throw  back  the 
barbaric  inroads  ;  or  where  the  barbarians  were  settled 
within  the  frontiers,  awe  them  into  peaceful  subjects, 
or  array  thjin  as  valiant  defenders  of  their  dominions. 


Ohap.  X.  HIS  WRITINGS.  189 

As  long  as  both  Romes,  more  especially  the  ancient 
city  of  the  West,  remained  inviolate,  so  long  the  fabric 
of  the  Roman  greatness  seemed  unbroken,  and  she 
might  still  assert  her  title  as  Mistress  of  the  World. 
The  capture  of  Rome  dissipated  for  ever  these  proud 
illusions ;  it  struck  the  Roman  world  to  the  heart ; 
and  in  the  mortal  agony  of  the  old  social  system,  men 
wildly  grasped  at  every  cause  which  could  account 
for  this  unexpected,  this  inexplicable,  phenomenon. 
They  were  as  much  overwhelmed  with  dread  and 
wonder  as  if  there  had  been  no  previous  omens  of 
decay,  no  slow  and  progressive  approach  to  the  sacred 
walls ;  as  if  the  fate  of  the  city  had  not  been  already 
twice  suspended  by  the  venality,  the  mercy,  or  the 
prudence  of  the  conqueror.  Murmurs  were  again 
heard  impeaching  the  new  religion  as  the  cause  of 
this  disastrous  consummation :  the  deserted  gods  had 
deserted  in  their  turn  the  apostate  city.^ 

There  seems  no  doubt  that  Pagan  ceremonies  took 
place  in  the  hour  of  peril,  to  avert,  if  possible,  the 
imminent  ruin.  The  respect  paid  by  the  barbarians 
to  the  churches  might,  in  the  zealous  or  even  the 
wavering  votaries  of  Paganism,  strengthen  the  feeling 
of  some  remote  connection  between  the  destroyer  of 
the  civil  power  and  the  destroyer  of  the  ancient 
religions.  The  Roman  aristocracy,  which  fled  to 
different  parts  of  the  world,  more  particularly  to  the 
yet  peaceful  and  uninvaded  province  of  Africa,  and 
among  whom  the  feelings  of  attachment  to  the  institu- 

1  Orosius  attempted  the  same  theme:  the  Pagans,  he  asserts,  "prsesentia 
tantum  tempora,  veluti  malis  extra  solitum  infestissima,  ob  hoc  solum,  quod 
creditur  Christus,  et  colitur,  idola  autem  minus  coluntur,  infamant."  He\Tie 
has  well  observed  on  this  -work  of  Orosius,  "  Excitaverat  Augustini  vi- 
brantis  arraa  exemplvm  Orosiura,  discipulum,  ut  et  ipse  anna  simaeret,  etsi 
imbellibus  manibus."    -Opuscula,  vi.  p.  130. 


190  AUGUSTINE.  Book  III. 

tions  and  to  the  gods  of  Rome  were  still  the  strongest, 
were  not  likely  to  suppress  the  language  of  indignation 
and  sorrow,  or  to  refrain  from  the  extenuation  of  their 
own  cowardice  and  effeminacy,  by  ascribing  the  fate 
of  the  city  to  the  irresistible  power  of  the  alienated 
deities. 

Augustine  dedicated  thirteen  years  to  the  completion 
A  D  413  ^^  ^^^^^  work,  which  was  for  ever  to  determine 
to  426.  ^j^jg  solemn  question,  and  to  silence  the  last 

murmurs  of  expiring  Paganism.  The  City  of  God  is 
at  once  the  funeral  oration  of  the  ancient  society  and 
the  gratulatory  panegyric  on  the  birth  of  the  new.  It 
acknowledged,  it  triumphed  in,  the  irrevocable  fall  of 
the  Babylon  of  the  West,  the  shrine  of  idolatry ;  it 
hailed  at  the  same  time  the  universal  dominion  which 
awaited  the  new  theocratic  policy.  The  earthly  city 
had  undergone  its  predestined  fate ;  it  had  passed 
away  with  all  its  vices  and  superstitions,  with  all  its 
virtues  and  its  glories  (for  the  soul  of  Augustine 
was  not  dead  to  the  noble  reminiscences  of  Roman 
greatness),  with  its  false  gods  and  its  Heathen  sacri- 
fices. Its  doom  was  sealed,  and  for  ever.  But  in 
its  place  had  arisen  the  City  of  God,  the  Church  of 
Christ ;  a  new  social  system  had  emerged  from  the 
ashes  of  the  old ;  that  system  was  founded  by  God, 
was  ruled  by  divine  laws,  and  had  the  divine  promise 
of  perpetuity. 

The  first  ten  books  of  the  City  of  God  are  devoted 
to  the  question  of  the  connection  between  the  pros- 
perity and  the  religion  of  Rome ;  five  of  them  to  the 
influence  of  Paganism  in  this  world ;  five  to  that  in 
the  world  to  come.  Augustine  appeals  in  the  five 
first  to  the  mercy  shown  by  the  conqueror  as  the 
triumph  of  Christianity.     Had  the  Pagan  Radagaisus 


Chap.x.  his  writings.  191 

taken  Rome,  not  a  life  would  have  been  spared,  no 
place  would  have  been  sacred.  The  Christian  Alaric 
had  been  checked  and  overawed  by  the  sanctity  of 
the  Christian  character  and  his  respect  for  his  Chris- 
tian brethren.  He  denies  that  worldly  prosperity  is 
an  unerring  sign  of  the  divine  favor ;  he  denies  the 
exemption  of  the  older  Romans  from  disgrace  and 
distress,  and  recapitulates  the  crimes  and  the  calami- 
ties of  their  history  during  their  worship  of  their 
ancient  gods.  He  ascribes  their  former  glory  to 
their  valor,  their  frugality,  their  contempt  of  wealth, 
their  fortitude,  and  their  domestic  virtues ;  he  as- 
signs their  vices,  their  frightful  profligacy  of  manners, 
their  pride,  their  luxury,  their  effeminacy,  as  the 
proximate  causes  of  their  ruin.  Even  in  their  ruin, 
they  could  not  forget  their  dissolute  amusements  ;  the 
theatres  of  Carthage  were  crowded  with  the  fugitives 
from  Rome.  In  the  five  following  books,  he  examines 
the  pretensions  of  Heathenism  to  secure  felicity  in  the 
world  to  come ;  he  dismisses  with  contempt  the  old 
popular  religion,  but  seems  to  consider  the  philosophic 
Theism,  the  mystic  Platonism  of  the  later  period,  a 
worthier  antagonist.  He  puts  forth  all  his  subtlety 
and  power  in  refutation  of  these  tenets. 

The  last  twelve  books  place  in  contrast  the  origin, 
the  pretensions,  the  fate,  of  the  new  city,  that  of  God. 
He  enters  at  large  into  the  evidences  of  Christianity ; 
he  describes  the  sanctifying  effects  of  the  faith ;  but 
pours  forth  all  the  riches  of  his  imagination  and 
eloquence  on  the  destinies  of  the  Church  at  the 
resurrection.  Augustine  had  no  vision  of  the  worldly 
power  of  the  new  city ;  he  foresaw  not  the  spiritual 
empire  of  Rome  which  would  replace  the  new  fallen 
Rome  of  Heathenism.      With   him   the   triumph   of 


192  AUGUSTINE.  Book  III. 

Christianity  is  not  complete  till  the  world  itself,  not 
merely  its  outward  framework  of  society  and  the  con- 
stitution of  its  kingdoms,  has  experienced  a  total 
change.  In  the  description  of  the  final  kingdom  of 
Christ,  he  treads  his  way  with  great  dexterity  and 
address  between  the  grosser  notions  of  the  Millenarians, 
with  their  kingdom  of  earthly  wealth  and  power  and 
luxury  (this  he  repudiates  with  devout  abhorrence)  ; 
and  that  finer  and  subtler  spiritualism,  which  is  ever 
approaching  to  Pantheism,  and,  by  the  rejection  of  the 
bodily  resurrection,  renders  the  existence  of  the  disem- 
bodied spirit  too  fine  and  impalpable  for  the  general 
apprehension. 

The  uneventful  personal  life  of  St.  Augustine,  at 
^.^   ^  least  till   towards   its   close,  contrasts  with 

Idle  01  ' 

Augustine,  ^^c^^  ^f  Ambrosc  and  that  of  Chrysostom. 
After  the  first  throes  and  travail  of  his  religious  life, 
described  with  such  dramatic  fidelity  in  his  Confess- 
ions, he  subsided  into  a  peaceful  bishop  in  a  remote 
and  rather  inconsiderable  town.^  He  had  not,  like 
Ambrose,  to  interpose  between  rival  emperors,  or  to 
rule  the  conscience  of  the  universal  sovereign.  He 
had  not,  like  Chrysostom,  to  enter  into  a  perilous 
conflict  with  the  vices  of  a  capital  and  the  intrigues 
of  a  court.  Forced  by  the  devout  admiration  of  the 
people  to  assume  the  episcopate  in  the  city  of  Hippo, 
he  was  faithful  to  his  first  bride,  his  earliest  though 
humble  see.  Not  that  his  life  was  that  of  contem- 
plative inactivity,  or  tranquil  literary  exertion :  his 
personal  conferences  with  the  leaders  of  the  Donatists, 
the  Manicheans,  the  Arians,  and  Pelagians,  and  his 
presence  in  the  councils  of  Carthage,  displayed  his 

1  He  was  thirty-five  before  he  was  ordained  presbyter,  A.D.  389 ;  he  was 
chosen  co-adjutor  to  the  Bishop  of  Hippo,  A.D.  395. 


Chap.  X.  HIS  LIFE.  193 

power  of  dealing  with  men.  His  letter  to  Count 
Boniface  showed  that  he  was  not  unconcerned  with 
the  public  affairs ;  and  his  former  connection  with 
Boniface,  who  at  one  time  had  expressed  his  determi- 
nation to  embrace  the  monastic  life,  might  warrant 
his  remonstrance  against  the  fatal  revolt  which  involved 
Boniface  and  Africa  in  ruin. 

At  the  close  of  his  comparatively  peaceful  life, 
Augustine  was  exposed  to  the  trial  of  his  severe  and 
lofty  principles.  His  faith  and  his  superiority  to  the 
world  were  brought  to  the  test  in  the  fearful  calamities 
which  desolated  the  whole  African  province.  No  pa,rt 
of  the  empire  had  so  long  escaped ;  no  part  was  so 
fearfully  visited,  as  Africa  by  the  invasion  of  the 
Vandals.  The  once  prosperous  and  fruitful  region 
presented  to  the  view  only  ruined  cities,  burning' 
villages,  a  population  thinned  by  the  sword,  bowed  to 
slavery,  and  exposed  to  every  kind  of  torture  and 
mutilation.  With  these  fierce  barbarians,  the  awful 
presence  of  Christianity  imposed  no  respect.  The 
churches  were  not  exempt  from  the  general  ruin, 
nor  the  bishops  and  clergy  from  cruelty  and  death,  nor 
the  dedicated  virgins  from  worse  than  death.  In 
many  places  the  services  of  religion  entirely  ceased 
from  the  extermination  of  the  worshippers  or  the 
flight  of  the  priests.  To  Augustine,  as  the  supreme 
authority  in  matters  of  faith  or  conduct,  was  sub- 
mitted the  grave  question  of  the  course  to  be  pursued 
by  the  clergy,  —  whether  they  were  to  seek  their  own 
security,  or  to  confront  the  sword  of  the  ravager. 
The  advice  of  Augustine  was  at  once  lofty  and  discreet. 
Where  the  flock  remained,  it  was  cowardice,  it  was 
impiety,  in  the  clergy  to  desert  them,  and  to  deprive 
them  in   those   disastrous  times   of  the   consolatory 

VOL.  III.  13 


194  AUGUSTINE  — HIS  DEATH.  Book  III. 

offices  of  religion,  their  children  of  baptism,  themselves 
of  the  holy  Eucharist.  But  where  the  priest  was  an 
especial  object  of  persecution,  and  his  place  might  be 
supplied  by  another ;  where  the  flock  was  massacred 
or  dispersed,  or  had  abandoned  their  homes,  —  the 
clergy  might  follow  them,  and,  if  possible,  provide  for 
their  own  security. 

Augustine  did  not  fall  below  his  own  high  notions 
of  Christian,  of  episcopal  duty.  When  the  Vandal 
army  gathered  around  Hippo,  one  of  the  few  cities 
which  still  afforded  a  refuge  for  the  persecuted  pro- 
vincials, he  refused,  though  more  than  seventy  years 
old,  to  abandon  his  post.     In  the  third  month 

A.D.  430. 

of  the  siege,  he  was  released  by  death,  and 
escaped  the  horrors  of  the  capture,  the  cruelties  of  the 
conqueror,  and  the  desolation  of  his  church. ^ 

1  In  the  life  of  Augustine,  I  have  chiefly  consulted  that  prefixed  to  his 
works,  and  Tillemont,  with  the  passages  in  his  Confessions  and  Epistles. 


CiiAP.  XI.  JEROME.  195 


CHAPTER    XL 

Jerome.    The  Monastic  System. 

Though  not  so  directly  or  magisterially  dominant  over 
the  Christianity  of  the  West,  the  influence 
of  Jerome  has  been  of  scarcely  less  impor- 
tance than  that  of  Augustine.  Jerome  was  tlie  con- 
necting link  between  the  East  and  the  West ;  through 
him,  as  it  were,  passed  over  into  the  Latin  hemisphere 
of  Christendom  that  which  was  still  necessary  for  its 
permanence  and  independence  during  the  succeeding 
ages.  The  time  of  separation  approached,  when  the 
Eastern  and  Western  empires,  the  Latin  and  the 
Greek  languages,  were  to  divide  the  world.  Western 
Christianity  was  to  form  an  entirely  separate  system. 
The  different  nations  and  kingdoms  which  were  to 
arise  out  of  the  wreck  of  the  Roman  empire  were 
to  maintain,  each  its  national  church,  but  there  was 
to  be  a  permanent  centre  of  unity  in  that  of  Rome, 
considered  as  the  common  parent  and  federal  head  of 
Western  Christendom.  But,  before  this  vast  and  silent 
revolution  took  place,  certain  preparatives,  in  which 
Jerome  was  chiefly  instrumental,  gave  strength  and 
harmony  and  vitality  to  the  religion  of  the  West, 
from  which  the  precious  inheritance  has  been  secured 
to  modern  Europe. 

The  two  leading  transactions  in  which  Jerome  took 
the  effective  part,  were,  —  1st,  the  introduction,  or  at 
least  the  general  reception,  of  Monachism  in  the  West ; 


196  JEROME.  Book  M. 

2d,  the  establishment  of  an  authoritative  and  univer- 
sally recognized  version  of  the  sacred  writings  into 
the  Latin  language.  For  both  these  important  ser- 
vices Jerome  qualified  himself  by  his  visits  .to  the 
East.  He  was  probably  the  first  Occidental  (though 
born  in  Dalmatia,  he  may  be  almost  considered  a 
Roman,  having  passed  all  his  youth  in  that  city)  who 
became  completely  naturalized  and  domiciliated  in 
Judaea :  and  his  example,  though  it  did  not  originate, 
strengthened  to  an  extraordinary  degree  the  passion 
for  pilgrimages  to  the  Holy  Land ;  a  sentiment  in 
later  times  productive  of  such  vast  and  unexpected 
results.  In  the  earlier  period,  the  repeated  devasta- 
tions of  that  devoted  country,  and  still  more  its 
occupation  by  the  Jews,  had  overpowered  the  natural 
veneration  of  the  Christians  for  the  scene  of  the  life 
and  sufferings  of  the  Redeemer.  It  was  an  accursed 
rather  than  a  holy  region,  desecrated  by  the  presence 
of  the  murderers  of  the  Lord,  rather  than  endeared 
by  the  reminiscences  of  his  personal  ministry  and 
expiatory  death.  The  total  ruin  of  the  Jews,  and 
their  expulsion  from  Jerusalem  by  Hadrian ;  their 
dispersion  into  other  lands,  with  the  simultaneous 
progress  of  Christianity  in  Palestine  ;  and  their  settle- 
ment in  ^lia,  the  Roman  Jerusalem,  notwithstanding 
the  profanation  of  that  city  by  idolatrous  emblems,  - 
allowed  those  more  gentle  and  sacred  feelings  to  grow 
up  in  strength  and  silence.^     Already,  before  the  time 

1  Augustine  asserts  that  the  whole  world  flocked  to  Bethlehem  to  see  the 
place  of  Christ's  nativity.  —  t.  i.  p.  561.  Pilgrimages,  according  to  him, 
were  undertaken  to  Arabia,  to  see  the  dimgheap  on  which  Job  sat. — t.  ii. 
p.  59.  For  180  years,  according  to  Jerome,  from  Hadrian  to  Constantine, 
the  statue  of  Jupiter  occupied  the  place  of  the  resuiTCction,  and  a  statue  of 
Venus  was  worshipped  on  the  rock  of  Calvary.  But,  as  the  object  of 
Hadrian  was  to  insult  the  Jewish,  not  the  Christian,  religion,  it  seems  not 
very  credible  that  these  two  sites  should  be  chosen  for  the  Heathen  temples. 
—  Hieronym.  Oper.  Epist.  xlix.  p.  505. 


Chap.  XI.  JEROME.  197 

of  Jerome,  pilgrims  had  flowed  from  all  quarters  of  the 
world ;  and  during  his  life,  whoever  had  attained  to 
any  proficiency  in  religion,  in  Gaul,  or  in  the  secluded 
island  of  Britain,  was  eager  to  obtain  a  personal 
knowledge  of  these  hallowed  places.  They  were  met 
by  strangers  from  Armenia,  Persia,  India  (the  South- 
ern Arabia),  ^Ethiopia,  the  countless  monks  of  Egypt, 
and  from  the  whole  of  Western  Asia.^  Yet  Jerome 
was,  no  doubt,  the  most  influential  pilgrim  to  the 
Holy  Land ;  the  increasing  and  general  desire  to  visit 
the  soil  printed,  as  it  were,  with  the  footsteps,  and 
moist  with  the  redeeming  blood,  of  the  Saviour,  may 
be  traced  to  his  writings,  which  opened  as  it  were  a 
constant  and  easy  communication,  and  established  an 
intercourse,  more  or  less  regularly  maintained,  between 
Western  Europe  and  Palestine.^ 

1  "  Quicunque  in  Gallia  fuerat  primus  hue  properat.  Divisus  ab  orbe 
nostro  Britannus,  si  in  religione  processerit,  occiduo  sole  dimisso,  quaerit 
locum  fama  sibi  tantum,  et  Scripturarum  relatione  cognitum.  Quid  refe- 
ramus  Armenios,  quid  Persas,  quid  Indise,  quid  ^thiopise  populos,  ipsamque 
juxta  ^gyptum,  fertilem  monachorum,  Pontum  et  Cappadociam,  Syriam, 
Cretam,  et  Mesopotamiam  cunctaque  orientis  examina."  This  is  the  letter 
of  a  Roman  female,  Paula.  —  Hieronym.  Oper.  Epist.  xliv.  p.  551. 

2  See  the  glowing  description  of  all  the  religious  wonders  in  the  Holy 
Land  in  the  Epitaphium  Paulse.  An  epistle,  however,  of  Gregory  of  Nyssa 
strongly  remonstrates  against  pilgi-images  to  the  Holy  Land,  even  from 
Cappadocia.  He  urges  the  dangers  and  suspicions  to  which  pious  recluses, 
especially  women,  would  be  subject  with  male  attendants,  either  strangers  or 
friends,  on  a  lonely  road;  the  dissolute  words  and  sights  which  may  be 
unavoidable  in  the  inns ;  the  dangers  of  robbery  and  violence  in  the  Holy 
Land  itself,  of  the  moral  state  of  which  he  draws  a  fearful  picture.  He 
asserts  the  religious  superiority  of  Cappadocia,  which  had  more  churches 
than  any  part  of  the  world ;  and  inquires,  in  plain  terms,  whether  a  man 
will  believe  the  virgin  birth  of  Christ  the  more  by  seeing  Bethlehem,  or  his 
resurrection  by  visiting  his  tomb,  or  his  ascension  by  standing  on  the  Mount 
of  Olives.  —  Greg.  Nyss.  de  eunt.  Hieros. 

The  authenticity  of  this  epistle  is,  indeed,  contested  by  Roman  Catholic 
writers;  but  I  can  see  no  internal  evidence  against  its  genuineness.  Je- 
rome's more  sober  letter  to  Paulinus,  Epist.  xxix.  vol.  iv.  p.  563,  should  also 
be  compared. 


1 98  THE  MONASTIC  SYSTEM.  Book  IIL 

But  besides  this  subordinate,  if  indeed  subordinate, 
effect  of  Jerome's  peculiar  position  between  the  East 
and  West,  he  was  thence  botli  incited  and  enabled  to 
accomplish  his  more  immediately  influential  undertak- 
ings. In  Palestine  and  in  Egypt,  Jerome  became  him- 
self deeply  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  Monachism,  and 
labored  with  all  his  zeal  to  awaken  the  more  tardy 
West  to  rival  Egypt  and  Syria  in  displaying  this  sub- 
lime perfection  of  Christianity.  By  his  letters,  descrip- 
tive of  the  purity,  the  sanctity,  the  total  estrangement 
from  the  deceitful  world  in  these  blessed  retirements, 
he  kindled  the  holy  emulation,  especially  of  the  fe- 
males, in  Rome.  Matrons  and  virgins  of  patrician 
families  embraced  with  contagious  fervor  the  monastic 
life  ;  and  though  the  populous  districts  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  the  metropolis  were  not  equally  favorable 
for  retreat,  yet  they  attempted  to  practise  the  rigid 
observances  of  the  desert  in  the  midst  of  the  busy 
metropolis. 

For  the  second  of  his  great  achievements,  the  ver- 
sion of  the  sacred  Scriptures,  Jerome  derived  inestima- 
ble advantages,  and  acquired  unprecedented  authority, 
by  his  intercourse  with  the  East.  His  residence  in 
Palestine  familiarized  him  with  the  language  and  pecu- 
liar habits  of  the  sacred  writers.  He  was  the  first 
Christian  writer  of  note  who  thought  it  worth  while  to 
study  Hebrew.  Nor  was  it  the  language  alone ;  the 
customs,  the  topography,  the  traditions,  of  Palestine 
were  carefully  collected,  and  applied  by  Jerome,  if  not 
always  with  the  soundest  judgment,  yet  occasionally 
with  great  felicity  and  success  to  the  illustration  of  the 
sacred  writings. 

The  influence  of  Monachism  upon  the  manners, 
opinions,  and  general  character  of  Christianity,  as  well 


Chap.  XI.  MONACHISM  —  CCENOBITISM.  199 

as  that  of  the  Yulgate  translation  of  the  Bible,  not 
only  on  the  religion,  but  on  the  literature,  of  Europe, 
appear  to  demand  a  more  extensive  investi- 

Monachism. 

gation ;  and  as  Jerome,  ii  not  the  representa- 
tive, was  the  great  propagator,  of  Monachism  in  the 
West,  and  as  about  this  time  this  form  of  Christianity 
overshadowed  and  dominated  throughout  the  whole  of 
Christendom,  it  will  be  a  fit  occasion,  although  I  have 
in  former  parts  of  this  work  not  been  able  altogether 
to  avoid  it,  to  develop  more  fully  its  origin  and  prin- 
ciples. 

It  is  singular  to  see  this  Oriental  influence  succes- 
sively enslaving  two  religions  in  their  origin  and  in 
their  genius  so  totally  opposite  to  Monachism  as  Chris- 
tianity and  the  religion  of  Mohammed.  Both  gradually 
and  unreluctantly  yield  to  the  slow  and  inevitable 
change.  Christianity,  with  very  slight  authority  from 
the  precepts,  and  none  from  the  practice  of  the  Author 
and  first  teachers  of  the  faith,  admitted  this  without 
inquiry  as  the  perfection  and  consummation  of  its  own 
theory.  Its  advocates  and  their  willing  auditors  equally 
forgot,  that,  if  Christ  and  his  apostles  had  retired  into 
the  desert,  Christianity  would  never  have  spread  be- 
yond the  wilderness  of  Judasa.  The  transformation 
which  afterwards  took  place  of  the  fierce  Arab  marau- 
der, or  the  proselyte  to  the  martial  creed  of  the  Koran, 
into  a  dreamy  dervish,  was  hardly  more  violent  and 
complete,  than  that  of  the  disciple  of  the  great  exam- 
ple of  Christian  virtue,  or  of  the  active  and  popular 
Paul,  into  a  solitary  anchorite. 

Still  that  which  might  appear  most  adverse  to  the 
universal  dissemination  of  Christianity  event- 

Coenobitism. 

ually   tended   to  its   entire   and   permanent 
incorporation  with  the  whole  of  society.    When  Erem- 


200  ORIGIN  OF  MONACfflSM.  Book  IH. 

itism  gave  place  to  Coenobitism ;  when  the  hermitage 
grew  up  into  a  convent,  the  establishment  of  these 
religions  fraternities  in  the  wildest  solitudes  gathered 
round  them  a  Christian  community,  or  spread,  as  it 
were,  a  gradually  increasing  belt  of  Christian  worship, 
which  was  maintained  by  the  spiritual  services  of  the 
monks.  The  monks,  though  not  generally  ordained  as 
ecclesiastics,  furnished  a  constant  supply  for  ordina- 
tion. In  this  manner,  the  rural  districts,  which,  in 
most  parts,  long  after  Christianity  had  gained  the 
predominance  in  the  towns,  remained  attached  by 
undisturbed  habit  to  the  ancient  superstition,  were 
slowly  brought  within  the  pale  of  the  religion.  The 
monastic  communities  commenced,  in  the  more  remote 
and  less  populous  districts  of  the  Roman  world,  that 
ameliorating  change  which,  at  later  times,  they  carried 
on  beyond  the  frontiers.  As  afterwards  they  intro- 
duced civilization  and  Christianity  among  the  barbar- 
ous tribes  of  North  Germany  or  Poland,  so  now  they 
continued  in  all  parts  a  quiet  but  successful  aggression 
on  the  lurking  Paganism. 

Monachism  was  the  natural  result  of  the  incorpora- 
ori  -n  of  *^^^^  ^^  Christianity  with  the  prevalent  opin- 
Mona<:hism.  j^^^g  ^f  mankind,  and  in  part  of  the  state  of 
profound  excitement  into  which  it  had  thrown  the 
human  mind.  We  have  traced  the  universal  predom- 
inance of  the  great  principle,  the  inherent  evil  of 
matter.  This  primary  tenet,  as  well  of  the  Eastern 
religions  as  of  the  Platonism  of  the  West,  coincided 
with  the  somewhat  ambiguous  use  of  the  term  "  world  " 
in  the  sacred  writings.  Both  were  alike  the  irreclaim- 
able domain  of  the  Adversary  of  good.  The  importance 
assumed  by  the  soul,  now  through  Christianity  become 
profoundly  conscious  of  its  immortality,  tended  to  the 


Chap.  XI.  ORIGIN  OF  MONACHISM.  201 

same  end.  The  deep  and  serious  solicitude  for  the  fate 
of  that  everlasting  part  of  our  being,  the  concentration 
of  all  its  energies  on  its  own  individual  welfare,  with- 
drew it  entirely  within  itself.  A  kind  of  sublime  self- 
ishness excluded  all  subordinate  considerations.^  The 
only  security  against  the  corruption  wliich  environed  it 
on  all  sides  seemed  entire  alienation  from  the  contagion 
of  matter  ;  the  constant  mortification,  the  extinction,  if 
possible,  of  those  senses  which  were  necessarily  keeping 
up  a  dangerous  and  treasonable  correspondence  with 
the  external  universe.  On  the  other  hand,  entire 
estrangement  from  the  rest  of  mankind,  included  in 
the  proscribed  and  infectious  ivorld,  appeared  no  less 
indispensable.  Communion  with  God  alone  was  at 
once  the  sole  refuge  and  perfection  of  the  abstracted 
spirit ;  prayer,  the  sole  unendangered  occupation,  alter- 
nating only  with  that  coarse  industry  which  might  give 
employment  to  the  refractory  members,  and  provide 
that  scanty  sustenance  required  by  the  inalienable 
infirmity  of  corporeal  existence.  The  fears  and  the 
hopes  were  equally  wrought  upon,  —  the  fear  of  defile- 
ment and  consequently  of  eternal  perdition  ;  the  hope 
of  attaining  the  serene  enjoyment  of  the  divine  pres- 
ence in  the  life  to  come.  If  any  thought  of  love  to 
mankind,  as  an  unquestionable  duty  entailed  by  Chris- 
tian brotherhood,  intruded  on  the  isolated  being,  thus 
laboring  on  the  single  object,  his  own  spiritual  perfec- 
tion, it  found  a  vent  in  prayer  for  their  happiness, 

1  It  is  remarkable  how  rarely,  if  ever  (I  cannot  call  to  mind  an  instance), 
in  the  discussions  on  the  comparative  merits  of  marriage  and  celibacy,  the 
social  advantages  appear  to  have  occurred  to  the  mind ;  the  benefit  to  man- 
kind of  raising  up  a  race  born  from  Christian  parents  and  brought  up  in 
Christian  principles.  It  is  always  argued  with  relation  to  the  interests  and 
the  perfection  of  the  individual  soul;  and,  even  with  regard  to  thjt,  the 
writers  seem  almost  unconscious  of  the  softening  and  humanizing  effect  of 
the  natural  affections,  the  beauty  of  parental  tenderness  and  filial  love. 


202  CELIBACY.  Book  IH. 

which  excused  all  more   active   or   effective  henevo- 
lence. 

On  both  principles,  of  course,  marriage  was  inexora- 
ceubac  ^^^  Condemned.^  Some  expressions  in  the 
writings  of  St.  Paul,^  and  emulation  of  the 
Gnostic  sects,  combining  with  these  general  sentiments, 
had  very  early  raised  celibacy  into  the  highest  of 
Christian  virtues :  marriage  was  a  necessary  evil,  an 
inevitable  infirmity  of  the  weaker  brethren.  With  the 
more  rational  and  earlier  writers,  Cyprian,  Athanasius, 
and  even  in  occasional  passages  in  Ambrose  or  Augus- 
tine, it  had  its  own  high  and  peculiar  excellence ;  but 
even  with  them,  virginity,  the  absolute  estrangement 
from  all  sensual  indulgence,  was  the  transcendant  vir- 
tue, tlie  pre-assumption  of  the  angelic  state,  tlie  approx- 
imation to  the  beatified  existence.^ 

1  There  is  a  sensible  and  judicious  book,  entitled  "Die  Einfuhrung  der 
erzwungenen  Ehelosigkeit  bei  den  Christlichen  Geistlichen  und  iiire  Folge," 
von  J.  A.  und  Aug.  Theiner,  Altenburg,  1828,  which  enters  fully  into  the 
origin  and  consequences  of  celibacy  in  the  whole  Church.  This  is  an  early 
work  of  Theiner,  now  become  a  Roman  Catholic,  and  laboring  in  the  library 
of  the  Vatican  as  the  Continuator  of  Baronius. 

2  I  agree  with  Theiner  (p.  24)  in  considering  these  precepts  local  and 
temporary,  relating  to  the  especial  circumstances  of  those  whom  St.  Paul 
addressed. 

3  The  general  tone  was  that  of  the  vehement  Jerome.  There  must  not 
only  be  vessels  of  gold  and  silver,  but  of  wood  and  earthenware.  This  con- 
temptuous admission  of  the  necessity  of  the  married  life  distinguished  the 
orthodox  from  the  Manichean,  the  Montanist,  and  the  Encratite.  —  Jerom. 
adv.  Jovin.  p.  146. 

The  sentiments  of  the  Fathers  on  marriage  and  virginity  may  be  thus 
briefly  stated.  I  am  not  speaking  with  reference  to  the  marriage  of  the 
clergy,  which  will  be  considered  hereafter. 

The  earlier  writers,  when  they  are  contending  with  the  Gnostics,  though 
they  elevate  virginity  above  marriage,  speak  veiy  strongly  on  the  folly,  and 
even  the  impiety,  of  prohibiting  or  disparaging  lawful  wedlock.  They  ac- 
knowledge and  urge  the  admitted  fact  that  several  of  the  apostles  were  mar- 
ried. This  is  the  tone  of  Ignatius  (Cotel.  Pat.  Apost.  ii.  77);  of  TertuUian 
("  licebat  et  apostolis  nubere  et  uxores  circumducere."  —  De  Exhort.  Castit.) ; 
above  all,  of  Clement  of  Alexandria. 

In  the  time  of  Cyprian,  vows  of  virginity  were  not  irrevocable.    '*  Si 


Chap.  XI.  CAUSES  OF  MONACHISM.  203 

Every  thing  conspired  to  promote,  nothing  remained 
to  counteract,  this  powerful  impulse.  In  the  causes  which 
East,  this  seclusion  from  the  world  was  by  no  promot? 
means  uncommon,  iiiven  among  the  busy 
and  restless  Greeks,  some  of  the  philosophers  had  as- 
serted the  privilege  of  wisdom  to  stand  aloof  from  the 
rest  of  mankind ;  the  question  of  the  superior  excel- 
lence of  the  active  or  the  contemplative  life  had  been 
agitated  on  equal  terms.  But  in  some  regions  of  the 
East,  the  sultry  and  oppressive  heats,  the  general 
relaxation  of  the  physical  system,  dispose  constitutions 
of  a  certain  temperament  to  a  dreamy  inertness.  The 
indolence  and  prostration  of  the  body  produce  a  kind 
of  activity  in  the  mind,  if  that  may  properly  be  called 
activity  which  is  merely  giving  loose  to  the  imagina- 
tion and  the  emotions,  as  they  follow  out  a  wild  train 
of  incoherent  thought,  or  are  agitated  by  impulses  of 
spontaneous  and  ungoverned  feeling.     Ascetic  Chris- 

autem  perseverare  nolunt,  vel  non  possunt,  melius  est  ut  nubant,  quam  in 
ignem  delictis  suis  cadant."  —  Lpist.  62.  And  his  general  language,  more 
particularly  his  tract  De  Habitu  Virginum,  implies  that  strong  discipline  was 
necessary  to  restrain  the  dedicated  virgins  from  the  vanities  of  the  world. 

But,  in  the  fourth  century,  the  eloquent  Fathers  vie  with  each  other  in 
exalting  the  transcendent,  holy,  angelic  virtue  of  virginity.  Every  one  of 
the  more  distinguished  writers  —  Basil,  the  two  Gregories,  Ambrose,  Augus- 
tine, Chrj'sostom  —  has  a  treatise  or  treatises  upon  virginity,  on  which  he 
expands  with  all  the  glowing  language  which  he  can  command.  It  became 
a  common  doctrine  that  sexual  intercourse  was  the  sign  and  the  consequence 
of  the  Fall;  they  forgot  that  the  command  to  "increase  and  multiply"  is 
placed  in  the  Book  of  Genesis  (i.  28)  before  the  Fall. 

We  have  before  quoted  passages  from  Gregory  of  ITazianzum.  Greg- 
ory of  Nyssa  says:  rjdovTj  61  aTtciTTjg  eyyLvofisvTj  rrjg  eKTrruaeug  fip^aro  — 
£V  uvofiiaig  eariv  rj  cvTOirjipLg,  kv  a/napnaig  ij  Kvrjoig.  —  Greg.  Nyss.  de 
Virgin,  c.  12,  c.  13.  But  Jerome  is  the  most  vehement  of  all:  "Nuptiae 
terram  replent,  virginitas  Paradisum."  The  unclean  beasts  went  hy  pairs 
into  the  ark ;  the  clean,  by  seven.  Though  there  is  another  mystery  in  the 
pairs,  even  the  unclean  beasts  were  not  to  be  allowed  a  second  marriage:  "N"e 
in  bestiis  quidem  et  immundis  avibus  digamia  comprobata  sit."  —  Adv. 
Jovin.  vol.  iv.  p.  160.  "Laudo  nuptias,  laudo  conjugium,  sed  quia  mihi 
virgines  generat."  —  Ad  Eustoch.  p.  36. 


204  CAUSES  OF  MONACmSM.  Book  III, 

tianity  ministered  new  aliment  to  this  common  propen- 
sity ;  it  gave  an  object  both  vague  and  determinate 
enough  to  stimulate,  yet  never  to  satisfy  or  exhaust. 
The  regularity  of  stated  hours  of  prayer,  and  of  a  kind 
of  idle  industry,  weaving  mats,  or  plaiting  baskets, 
alternated  with  periods  of  morbid  reflection  on  the 
moral  state  of  the  soul,  and  of  mystic  communion  with 
the  Deity .^  It  cannot,  indeed,  be  wondered  that  the 
new  revelation,  as  it  were,  of  the  Deity,  this  profound 
and  rational  certainty  of  his  existence,  this  infelt  con- 
sciousness of  his  perpetual  presence,  these  yet  un- 
known impressions  of  his  infinity,  his  power,  and  his 
love,  should  give  a  higher  character  to  this  eremitical 
enthusiasm,  and  attract  men  of  loftier  and  more  vigo- 
rous minds  within  its  sphere.  It  was  not  merely  the 
pusillanimous  dread  of  encountering  the  trials  of  life 
which  urged  the  humbler  spirits  to  seek  the  safe  retire- 
ment, or  the  natural  love  of  peace  and  the  weariness 
and  satiety  of  life,  which  commended  this  seclusion  to 
those  who  were  too  gentle  to  mingle  in,  or  who  were 
exhausted  with,  the  unprofitable  turmoil  of  the  world. 
Nor  was  it  always  the  anxiety  to  mortify  the  rebellious 
and  refractory  body  with  more  advantage.  The  one 
absorbing  idea  of  the  majesty  of  the  Godhead  almost 
seemed  to  swallow  up  all  other  considerations ;  tlie 
transcendent  nature  of  the  Triune  Deity,  the  relation 
of  the  different  persons  in  the  Godhead  to  each  other, 
seemed  the  only  worthy  objects  of  man's  contemplative 
faculties.     If  the  soul  never  aspired  to  that  Pantheis- 

1  "  Nam  pariter  exercentes  corporis  animaeque  virtutes,  exterioris  hominis 
stipendia  cum  emolumeutis  interioris  exaequant,  lubricis  motibus  cordis,  et 
fluctuationi  cogitationum  instabili,  operum  pondera,  velut  quandam  tenacem 
atque  immobilem  anchoram  prajfigentes,  cui  volubilitas  ac  pervagatio  cordis 
innexa  intra  cellae  claustra,  velut  in  portu  fidissimo  valeat  contineri."  - 
Cassian.,  Instit.  ii.  13. 


CfeAP.XI.  ANCHORITES  — ESSENES.  205 

tic  union  with  the  spiritual  essence  of  being  which  is 
the  supreme  ambition  of  the  higher  Indian  mysticism, 
their  theory  seemed  to  promise  a  sublime  estrangement 
from  all  sublunary  things,  an  occupation  for  the  spirit, 
already,  as  it  were,  disembodied  and  immaterialized  by 
its  complete  concentration  on  the  Deity. 

In  Syria  and  in  Egypt,  as  well  as  in  the  remoter 
East,  the  example  had  already  been  set,  both  of  solitary 
retirement  and  of  religious  communities.  The  Jews 
had  both  their  hermitages  and  their  coenobitic  institu- 
tions. Anchorites  swarmed  in  the  deserts  near  the 
Dead  Sea ;  ^  and  the  Essenes,  in  the  same  district,  and 
the  Egyptian  Therapeutse,  were  strictly  analogous  to 
the  Christian  monastic  establishments.  In  the  neigh- 
borhood of  many  of  the  Eastern  cities  were  dreary  and 
dismal  wastes,  incapable  of,  or  unimproved  by,  cultiva- 
tion, which  seemed  to  allure  the  enthusiast  to  abandon 
the  haunts  of  men  and  the  vices  of  society.  Egypt 
especially,  where  every  thing  excessive  and  extravagant 
found  its  birth  or  ripened  with  unexampled  vigor, 
seemed  formed  for  the  encouragement  of  the  wildest 
anchoritism.  It  is  a  long  narrow  valley,  closed  in  on 
each  side  by  craggy  or  by  sandy  deserts.  The  rocks 
were  pierced  either  with  natural  caverns,  or  hollowed 
out  by  the  hand  of  man  into  long  subterranean  cells 
and  galleries  for  various  uses,  either  of  life  or  of  super- 
sti!non,  or  of  sepulture.  The  Christian,  sometimes 
driven  out  by  persecution  (for  persecution  no  doubt 
greatly  contributed  to  people  these  solitudes)  ,2  or 
prompted  by  religious  feelings  to  fly  from  the  face  of 
man,  found  himself,  with  no  violent  effort,  in  a  dead 

1  Joseph!  Vita. 

2  Paul,  the  first  Christian  hermit,  fled  from  persecution.  —  Hieronym.,  Vit. 
Paul,  p.  69. 


206  ANTONY.  Book  III. 

and  voiceless  wilderness,  under  a  climate  which  re- 
quired no  other  shelter  than  the  ceiling  of  the  rock- 
hewn  cave,  and  where  actual  sustenance  might  be 
obtained  with  little  difficulty. 

St.  Antony  is  sometimes  described  as  the  founder  of 
the  monastic  life ;    it  is  clear,  however,  that 

Antony.  '  ' 

he  only  imitated  and  excelled  the  example 
of  less  famous  anchorites.  But  he  may  fairly  be  con- 
sidered as  its  representative. 

Antony  1  was  born  of  Christian  parents,  bred  up  in 
the  faith,  and,  before  he  was  twenty  years  old,  found 
himself  master  of  considerable  wealth,  and  charged 
with  the  care  of  a  younger  sister.  He  was  a  youth  of 
ardent  imagination,  vehement  impulses,  and  so  imper- 
fectly educated  as  to  be  acquainted  with  no  language 
but  his  native  Egyptian. ^  A  constant  attendant  on 
Christian  worship,  he  had  long  looked  back  with  admi- 
ration on  those  primitive  times  when  the  Christians 
laid  all  their  worldly  goods  at  the  feet  of  the  apostles. 
One  day  he  heard  the  sentence,  "Go,  sell  all  thou  hast, 
and  give  to  the  poor,  .  .  .  and  come,  and  follow  me." 
It  seemed  personally  addressed  to  himself  by  the  voice 
of  God.  He  returned  home,  distributed  his  lands 
among  his  neighbors,  sold  his  furniture  and  other 
effects,  except  a  small  sum  reserved  for  his  sister, 
whom  he  placed  under  the  care  of  some  pious  Chris- 
tian virgins.  Another  text,  "  Take  no  thought  for  the 
morrow,"  transpierced  his  heart,  and  sent  him  forth 

1  The  fact  that  the  great  Athanasius  paused  in  his  polemic  warfare  to 
write  the  life  of  Antony,  may  show  the  general  admiration  towards  the 
monastic  life. 

2  Jerome  claims  the  honor  of  being  the  first  hermit  for  Paul,  in  the  time 
of  Decius  or  Valerian  (Vit.  Paul.  p.  68);  but  the  whole  life  of  Paul,  and  the 
visit  of  Antony  to  him,  read  like  religious  romance,  and,  it  appears  from 
the  preface  of  Jerome  to  the  Life  of  Hilarion,  did  not  find  implicit  credit  in 
his  own  day. 


Chap.  XL  DEMONOLOGY.  207 

for  ever  from  the  society  of  men.  He  found  an  aged 
solitary,  who  dwelt  without  the  city.  He  was  seized 
with  pious  emulation,  and  from  that  time  devoted  him- 
self to  the  severest  asceticism.  There  was  still,  how- 
ever, something  gentle  and  humane  about  the  asceticism 
of  Antony.  His  retreat  (if  we  may  trust  the  romantic 
Life  of  St.  Hilarion,  in  the  works  of  St.  Jerome)  was 
by  no  means  of  the  horrid  and  savage  character 
affected  by  some  other  recluses :  it  was  at  the  foot  of 
a  high  and  rocky  mountain,  from  which  welled  forth  a 
stream  of  limpid  water,  bordered  by  palms,  which 
afforded  an  agreeable  shade.  Antony  had  planted 
this  pleasant  spot  with  vines  and  shrubs ;  there  was 
an  enclosure  for  fruit  trees  and  vegetables,  and  a  tank 
from  which  the  labor  of  Antony  irrigated  his  garden. 
His  conduct  and  character  seemed  to  partake  of  this 
less  stern  and  gloomy  tendency.^  He  visited  the  most 
distinguished  anchorites,  but  only  to  observe,  that  he 
might  imitate,  the  peculiar  virtue  of  each,  —  the  gentle 
disposition  of  one  ;  the  constancy  of  prayer  in  another  ; 
the  kindness,  the  patience,  the  industry,  the  vigils,  the 
macerations,  the  love  of  study,  the  passionate  contem- 
plation of  the  Deity,  the  charity  towards  mankind. 
It  was  his  devout  ambition  to  equal  or  transcend  each 
in  his  particular  austerity  or  distinctive  excellence. 

But  man  does  not  violate  nature  with  impunity: 
the  solitary  state  had  its  passions,  its  infirmities,  its 
perils.  The  hermit  could  fly  from  his  fellow-men,  but 
not  from  himself.  The  vehement  and  fervid  tempera- 
ment which  drove  him  into  the  desert  was 
not  subdued ;  it  found  new  ways  of  giving 
loose  to  its  suppressed  impulses.  The  self-centred 
imagination  began  to  people  the  desert  with  worse 

1  Vita  St.  Hilarion,  p.  85. 


208  DEMONOLOGY.  Book  III. 

enemies  than  mankind.  Demonology,  in  all  its  multi- 
plied forms,  was  now  an  established  part  of  the  Chris- 
tian creed,  and  embraced  with  the  greatest  ardor  by 
men  in  such  a  state  of  religious  excitement  as  to  turn 
hermits.  The  trials,  the  temptations,  the  agonies, 
were  felt  and  described  as  personal  conflicts  with 
hosts  of  impure,  malignant,  furious  fiends.  In  the 
desert,  these  beings  took  visible  form  and  substance ; 
in  the  day-dreams  of  profound  religious  meditation,  in 
the  visions  of  the  agitated  and  exhausted  spirit,  they 
were  undiscernible  from  reality.^  It  is  impossible, 
in  the  wild  legends  which  became  an  essential  part 
of  Christian  literature,  to  decide  how  much  is  the 
disordered  imagination  of  the  saint,  the  self-deception 
of  the  credulous,  or  the  fiction  of  the  zealous  writer. 
The  very  effort  to  suppress  certain  feelings  has  a 
natural  tendency  to  awaken  and  strengthen  them. 
The  horror  of  carnal  indulgence  would  not  permit 
the  sensual  desires  to  die  away  into  apathy.  Men 
are  apt  to  find  what  they  seek  in  their  own  hearts, 
and  by  anxiously  searching  for  the  guilt  of  lurking 
lust,  or  desire  of  worldly  wealth  or  enjoyment,  the 
conscience,  as  it  were,  struck  forcibly  upon  the  chord 
which  it  wished  to  deaden,  and  made  it  vibrate  with  a 
kind  of  morbid,  but  more  than  ordinary,  energy. 
Nothing  was  so  licentious  or  so  terrible  as  not  to  find 
its  way  to  the  cell  of  the  recluse.  Beautiful  women 
danced  around  him ;  wild  beasts  of  every  shape,  and 
monsters  with  no  shape  at  all,  howled  and  yelled 
and  shrieked  about  him,  while  he  knelt  in  prayer,  or 
snatched  his  broken  slumbers.  "Oh,  how  often  in  the 
desert,"  says  Jerome,  "  in  that  vast  solitude,  which, 
parched  by  the  sultry  sun,  affords  a  dwelling  to  the 

1  Compare  Jerome's  Life  of  St.  Hilarion,  p.  76. 


Chap.  XI.  SELE-TORTURE.  209 

monks,  did  I  fancy  myself  in  the  midst  of  the  hixiiries 
of  Rome !     I  sat  alone ;  for  I  was  full  of  bitterness. 
My  misshapen  Umbs  were  rough  with  sackclotli ;  and 
my  skin  was  so  squalid  that  I  might  have  been  taken 
for  a  negro.     Tears  and  groans  were  my  occupation 
every  day,  and  all  day ;  if  sleep  surprised  me  una- 
wares, my  naked  bones,  which  scarcely  held  together, 
clashed  on  the  earth.     I  will  say  nothing  of  my  food 
or  beverage;   even  the  rich  have   nothing   but   cold 
water;   any  warm  drink  is  a  luxury.     Yet  even  I, 
who  for  the  fear  of  hell  had  condemned  myself  to  this 
dungeon,  the  companion  only  of  scorpions  and  wild 
beasts,  was  in  the  midst  of  girls  dancing.     My  face 
was  pale  with  fasting,  but  the  mind  in  my  cold  body 
burned  with  desires  ;  the  fires  of  lust  boiled  up  in 
the  body,  which  was  already  dead.     Destitute  of  all 
succor,  I  cast  myself  at  the  feet  of  Jesus,  washed 
them  with  my  tears,  dried  them  with  my  hair,  and 
subdued  the  rebellious  flesh  by  a  whole  week's  fast 
ing."     After  describing  the  wild  scenes  into  which  he 
fled,   the   deep   glens   and   shaggy   precipices,^  "  The 
Lord  is  my  witness,"  he  concludes;   "sometimes   I 
appeared  to  be  present  among  the  angelic  hosts,  and 
sang,  '  We  will  haste  after  thee  for  the  sweet  savor  of 
thy  ointments.'  "  ^     For  at  times,  on  the  other  hand, 
gentle  and  more  than  human  voices  were  heard  con- 
soling the  constant  and  devout  recluse;   and  some- 
times the  baffled  demon  would  humbly  acknowledge 
himself  to  be  rebuked  before  the  hermit.     But  this 
was  in  general  after  a  fearful  struggle.     Desperate 
diseases   require   desperate    remedies.     The    g^^_^^^^^^ 
severest   pain    could   alone    subdue   or   dis- 
tract the  refractory  desires  or  the  pre-occupied  mind. 

1  Song  of  Solomon.    Hieronym.,  Epist.  xxii. 

VOL.  III.  1^ 


210  SELF-TORTURE.  Book  m. 

Human  invention  was  exhausted  in  self-inflicted  tor- 
ments. The  Indian  faquir  was  rivalled  in  the  variety 
of  distorted  postures  and  of  agonizing  exercises. 
Some  lived  in  clefts  and  caves ;  some  in  huts,  into 
which  the  light  of  day  could  not  penetrate ;  some 
hung  huge  weights  to  their  arms,  necks,  or  loins  ;  some 
confined  themselves  in  cages ;  some  on  the  tops  of 
mountains,  exposed  to  the  sun  and  weather.  The 
most  celebrated  hermit  at  length  for  life  condemned 
himself  to  stand  in  a  fiery  climate,  on  the  narrow  top 
of  a  pillar.^  Nor  were  these  always  rude  or  unedu- 
cated fanatics.  St.  Arsenius  had  filled,  and  with 
universal  respect,  the  dignified  post  of  tutor  to  the 
emperor  Arcadius.  But  Arsenius  became  an  hermit ; 
and,  among  other  things,  it  is  related  of  him,  that, 
employing  himself  in  the  common  occupation  of  the 
Egyptian  monks,  weaving  baskets  of  palm-leaves,  he 
changed  only  once  a  year  the  water  in  which  the 
leaves  were  moistened.  The  smell  of  the  fetid  water 
was  a  just  penalty  for  the  perfumes  which  he  had 
inhaled  during  his  worldly  life.  Even  sleep  was  a 
sin ;  an  hour's  unbroken  slumber  was  sufficient  for  a 
monk.  On  Saturday  evening,  Arsenius  lay  down 
with  his  back  to  the  setting  sun,  and  continued  awake, 
in  fervent  prayer,  till  the   rising   sun  shone  on  his 

1  The  language  of  Evagrius  (H.  E.  i.  13)  about  Simeon  vividly  expresses 
the  effect  which  he  made  on  his  own  age.  "Rivalling,  while  yet  in  the 
flesh,  the  conversation  of  angels,  he  withdrew  himself  from  all  earthly 
things,  and,  doing  violence  to  nature,  which  always  has  a  downward  ten- 
dency, he  aspired  after  that  which  is  on  high ;  and,  standing  midway  be- 
tween earth  and  heaven,  he  had  communion  with  God,  and  glorified  God 
with  the  angels;  from  the  earth  offering  supplications  [izpea^eiaq  Trpoayuv) 
as  an  ambassador  to  God ;  bringing  down  from  heaven  to  men  the  divine 
blessing."  The  influence  of  the  most  holy  martyr  in  the  air  {Tvavayiov  koX 
aepiov  (utprvpog)  on  political  affairs  lies  beyond  the  range  of  the  present 
histoiy. 


Chap.  XL  INFLUENCE  OF  ANTONY.  211 

eyes ;  ^  so  far  had  Christianity  departed  from  its  hu- 
mane and  benevolent  and  social  simplicity. 

It  may  be  a  curious  question  how  far  enthusiasm 
repays  its  votaries,  as  far  as  the  individual  is  con- 
cerned ;  in  what  degree  these  self-inflicted  tortures 
added  to  or  diminished  the  real  happiness  of  man ; 
how  far  these  privations  and  bodily  sufferings,  which 
to  the  cool  and  unexcited  reason  appear  intolerable, 
eitlier  themselves  produced  a  callous  insensibility,  or 
were  met  by  apathy  arising  out  of  the  strong  counter- 
excitement  of  the  mind ;  to  what  extent,  if  still  felt 
in  unmitigated  anguish,  they  were  compensated  by 
inward  complacency  from  the  conscious  fulfilment  of 
religious  duty,  the  stern  satisfaction  of  the  will  at  its 
triumph  over  nature,  the  elevation  of  mind  from 
the  consciousness  of  the  great  object  in  view,  or  the 
ecstatic  pre-enjoyment  of  certain  reward.  In  some 
instances,  they  might  derive  some  recompense  from 
the  respect,  veneration,  almost  adoration,  of  men. 
Emperors  visited  the  cells  of  these  ignorant,  perhaps 
superstitious,  fanatics,  revered  them  as  oracles,  and 
conducted  the  affairs  of  empire  by  their  advice.  The 
great  Theodosius  is  said  to  have  consulted  John  the 
Solitary  on  the  issue  of  the  war  with  Eugenius.^  His 
feeble  successors  followed  faithfully  the  example  of 
his  superstition. 

Antony  appeared  at  the  juncture  most  favorable  for 
the  acceptance  of  his  monastic  tenets.^    His  fame  and 
his  example  tended  still  further  to  dissemi-   influence  of 
nate  the  spreading  contagion.     In  every  part,    '^^^^^'^y- 
the    desert   began    to    swarm   with    anchorites,    who 

1  Compare  Fleury,  xx.  1,  2. 

2  Evagr.,  Vit.  St.  Paul,  c.  1;   Theodoret,  v.  24.    See  Flechier,  Vie  de 
Theodose,  iv.  43. 

8  "Hujus  vitae  auctor  Paulus,  illustrator  Antonius."  —  Jerom.  p.  46. 


212  INFLUENCE  OF  ANTONY.  Book  IH. 

found  it  diflficult  to  remain  alone.  Some  sought  out 
the  most  retired  chambers  of  the  ancient  cemeteries ; 
some  those  narrow  spots  which  remained  above  water 
during  the  inundations,  and  saw  with  pleasure  the  tide 
arise  which  was  to  render  them  unapproachable  to 
their  fellow-creatures.  But  in  all  parts  the  determined 
solitary  found  himself  constantly  obliged  to  recede 
farther  and  farther  ;  he  could  scarcely  find  a  retreat  so 
dismal,  a  cavern  so  profound,  a  rock  so  inaccessible, 
but  that  he  would  be  pressed  upon  by  some  zealous 
competitor,  or  invaded  by  the  humble  veneration  of 
some  disciple. 

It  is  extraordinary  to  observe  this  infringement  on 
the  social  system  of  Christianity,  this  disconnecting 
principle,  which,  pushed  to  excess,  might  appear  fatal 
to  that  organization  in  which  so  much  of  the  strength 
of  Christianity  consisted,  gradually  self-expanding  into 
a  new  source  of  power  and  energy,  so  wonderfully 
adapted  to  the  age.  The  desire  of  the  anchorite  to 
isolate  himself  in  unendangered  seclusion  was  con- 
stantly balanced  and  corrected  by  the  holy  zeal  or 
involuntary  tendency  to  proselytism.  The  farther  the 
saint  retired  from  the  habitations  of  men,  the  brighter 
and  more  attractive  became  the  light  of  his  sanctity ; 
the  more  he  concealed  himself,  the  more  was  he  sought 
out  by  a  multitude  of  admiring  and  emulous  followers. 
Each  built  or  occupied  his  cell  in  the  hallowed  neigh- 
borhood. A  monastery  was  thus  imperceptibly  formed 
around  the  hermitage ;  and  nothing  was  requisite  to 
the  incorporation  of  a  regular  community,  but  the 
formation  of  rules  for  common  intercourse,  stated 
meetings  for  worship,  and  something  of  uniformity  in 
dress,  food,  and  daily  occupations.  Some  monastic 
establishments  were  no    doubt  formed   at   once,  ia 


Chap.  XI.  CCENOBITIC  ESTABLISHMENTS.  213 

imitation  of  the  Jewish  Therapeutae  ;  but  many  of  the 
more  celebrated  Egyptian  estabhshments  gathered,  as 
it  were,  around  the  central  cell  of  an  Antony  or  a 
Pachomius.^ 

Something  like  an  uniformity  of  usage  appears  to 
have  prevailed  in  the  Egyptian  monasteries,  coenobitic 
The  brothers  were  dressed,  after  the  fashion  ments. 
of  the  country,  in  long  linen  tunics,  with  a  woollen 
girdle,  a  cloak,  and  over  it  a  sheep-skin.  They  usually 
went  barefooted,  but  at  certain  very  cold  or  very 
parching  seasons,  they  wore  a  kind  of  sandal.  They 
did  not  wear  the  hair-cloth.^  Their  food  was  bread 
and  water ;  their  luxuries,  occasionally  a  little  oil  or 
salt,  a  few  olives,  peas,  or  a  single  fig:  they  ate  in 
perfect  silence,  each  decury  by  itself.  They  were 
bound  to  strict  obedience  to  their  superiors ;  they 
were  divided  into  decuries  and  centenaries,  over  whom 
the  decurions  and  centurions  presided :  each  had  his 
separate  cell.^  The  furniture  of  their  cells  was  a 
mat  of  palm-leaves  and  a  bundle  of  the  papyrus, 
which  served  for  a  pillow  by  night  and  a  seat  by  day. 
Every  evening  and  every  night  they  were  summoned 
to  prayer  by  the  sound  of  a  horn.  At  each  meeting 
were  sung  twelve  psalms,  pointed  out,  it  was  believed, 
by  an  angel.     On  certain  occasions,  lessons  were  read 

1  Pachomius  was,  strictly  speaking,  the  founder  of  the  coenobitic  estab- 
lishments in  Egypt;  Eustathius,  in  Armenia;  Basil,  in  Asia.  Pachomius 
had  fourteen  hundred  monks  in  his  establishment :  seven  thousand  acknowl- 
edged his  jurisdiction. 

2  Jerome  speaks  of  the  cilicium  as  common  among  the  Syrian  monks, 
with  whom  he  lived.  Epist.  i. :  "Horrent  sacco  membra  deformi."  Even 
women  assumed  it.  —  Epitaph.  Paidse,  p.  678.  Cassian  is  inclined  to  think 
it  often  a  sign  of  pride.  —  Instit.  i.  3. 

3  The  accounts  of  Jerome  (in  Eustochium,  p.  45)  and  of  Cassian  are 
blended.  There  is  some  diiference  as  to  the  hours  of  meeting  for  prayers ; 
but  probably  the  coenobitic  institutes  differed  as  to  that  and  on  some  points 
of  diet. 


214  CCENOBITIC  ESTABLISHMENTS.  Book  III 

from  the  Old  or  New  Testament.  The  assembly  pre- 
served total  silence ;  nothing  was  heard  but  the  voice 
of  the  chanter  or  reader.  No  one  dared  even  to  look 
at  another.  The  tears  of  the  audience  alone,  or,  if  he 
spoke  of  the  joys  of  eternal  beatitude,  a  gentle  mur- 
mur of  hope,  was  the  only  sound  which  broke  the 
stillness  of  the  auditory.  At  the  close  of  each  psalm, 
the  whole  assembly  prostrated  itself  in  mute  adora- 
tion.^ In  every  part  of  Egypt,  from  the  Cataracts  to 
the  Delta,  the  whole  land  was  bordered  by  these  com- 
munities ;  there  were  5,000  coenobites  in  the  desert  of 
Nitria  alone ;  ^  the  total  number  of  male  anchorites 
and  monks  was  estimated  at  76,000 ;  the  females  at 
27,700.  Parts  of  Syria  were,  perhaps,  scarcely  less 
densely  peopled  with  ascetics.  Cappadocia  and  the 
provinces  bordering  on  Persia  boasted  of  numerous 
communities,  as  well  as  Asia  Minor  and  the  eastern 
parts  of  Europe,  Though  the  monastic  spirit  was  in 
its  full  power,  the  establishment  of  regular  communi- 
ties in  Italy  must  be  reserved  for  Benedict  of  Nursia, 
and  lies  beyond  the  bounds  of  our  present  history. 
The  enthusiasm  pervaded  all  orders.  Men  of  rank,  of 
family,  of  wealth,  of  education,  suddenly  changed  the 
luxurious  palace  for  the  howling  wilderness,  the  flat- 
teries of  men  for  the  total  silence  of  the  desert.  They 
voluntarily  abandoned  their  estates,  their  connections, 

1  "  Tantum  a  cunctis  praebetur  silentium,  ut  cum  in  unum  tarn  numerosa 
fratrum  multitudo  conveniat,  praeter  ilium,  qui  consurgens  psalmum  decantat 
in  medio,  nullus  hominum  penitus  adesse  credatur."  No  one  Avas  heard  to 
spit,  to  sneeze,  to  cough,  or  to  yawn, — there  was  not  even  a  sigh  or  a  groan; 
"nisi  fort6  haic  quae  per  excessum  mentis  claustra  oris  efFugerit,  quteque 
insensibiliter  cordi  obrepserit,  immoderato  scilicet  atque  intolerabili  spiritiis 
fervore  succcnso,  dum  ea  quae  ignita  mens  in  semetipsa  non  prajvalet  conti- 
nere,  per  ineflfabilem  quendam  gemitum  pectoris  sui  conclavibus  evaporare 
conatur."  —  Cassian.,  Instit.  ii.  10. 

2  Jeiom.  ad  Eustoch.  p.  44. 


Chap.  XI.  DANGERS   OF   CGENOBITISM.  215 

their  worldly  prospects.  The  desire  of  fame,  of 
power,  of  influence,  which  might  now  swell  the  ranks 
of  the  ecclesiastics,  had  no  concern  in  their  sacrifice. 
Multitudes  must  have  perished  without  the  least 
knowledge  of  their  virtues  or  their  fate  transpiring  in 
the  world.  Few  could  obtain,  or  hope  to  obtain,  the 
honor  of  canonization,  or  that  celebrity  which  Jerome 
promises  to  his  friend  Blesilla,  to  live  not  merely  in 
heaven,  but  in  the  memory  of  man  ;  to  be  consecrated 
to  immortality  by  his  writings.^ 

But  the  coenobitic  establishments  had  their  dangers 
no  less  than  the  cell  of  the  solitary  hermit.  Dangers  of 
Besides  those  consequences  of  seclusion  from  '^"^^o^i*^^"^- 
the  world,  the  natural  results  of  confinement  in  this 
close  separation  from  mankind,  and  this  austere  dis- 
charge of  stated  duties,  were  too  often  found  to  be  the 
proscription  of  human  knowledge  and  the  extinction 
of  human  sympathies.  Christian  wisdom  and  Chris- 
tian humanity  could  find  no  place  in  their  unsocial 
system.  A  morose  and  sullen  and  contemptuous 
ignorance  could  not  but  grow  up  where  there  was  no 
communication  with  the  rest  of  mankind,  and  the 
human  understanding  was  rigidly  confined  to  certain 
topics.  The  want  of  objects  of  natural  affection  could 
not  but  harden  the  heart;  and  those  who,  in  their 
stern  religious  austerity,  are  merciless  to 
themselves,  are  apt  to  be  merciless  to  oth-  '^^^^" 
ers :  ^  their  callous  and  insensible  hearts  have  no  sense 

1  "  Quae  cum  Christo  vivit  in  coelis,  in  bominum  quoque  ore  victura  est.  .  .  . 
Nunquam  in  meis  moritura  est  libris."  — Epist.  xxiii.  p.  60. 

2  There  is  a  cruel  history  of  an  abbot,  Mucins,  in  Cassian.  Mucins  en- 
treated admission  into  a  monastery.  He  had  one  little  boy  with  him  of  eight 
years  old.  They  were  placed  in  separate  cells,  lest  the  father's  heart  should 
be  softened  and  indisposed  to  total  renunciation  of  all  earthly  joys  by  the 
sight  of  his  child.  That  he  might  still  farthei  prove  his  Christian  obedi- 
ence ! !  and  self-denial,  the  child  was  systematically  neglected,  dressed  in 


216  FANATICISISI.  Book  HI. 

of  the  exquisitely  delicate  and  poignant  feelings  which 
arise  out  of  the  domestic  affections.  Bigotry  has 
always  found  its  readiest  and  sternest  executioners 
among  those  who  have  never  known  the  charities  of 
life. 

These  fatal  effects  seem  inherent  consequences  of 
Monasticism ;  its  votaries  could  not  but  degenerate 
from  their  lofty  and  sanctifying  purposes.  That  which 
in  one  generation  was  sublime  enthusiasm,  in  the  next 
became  sullen  bigotry,  or  sometimes  wrought  the  same 
individual  into  a  stern  forgetfulness,  not  only  of  the 
vices  and  follies,  but  of  all  the  more  generous  and 
sacred  feelings,  of  humanity.     In  the  coeno- 

Fanaticistn. 

bitic  institutes  was  added  a  strong  corporate 
spirit,  and  a  blind  attachment  to  their  own  opinions, 
which  were  identified  with  religion  and  the  glory  of 
God.  The  monks  of  Nitria,  from  simple  and  harmless 
enthusiasts,  became  ferocious  bands  of  partisans ;  in- 
stead of  remaining  aloof  in  jealous  seclusion  from  the 
factions  of  the  rest  of  the  world,  they  rushed  down 
armed  into  Alexandria :  what  they  considered  a  sacred 
cause  inflamed  and  warranted  a  ferocity  not  surpassed 
by  the  turbulent  and  blood-thirsty  rabble  of  that  city. 
In  support  of  a  favorite  doctrine  or  in  defence  of  a 
popular  prelate,  they  did  not  consider  that  they  were 
violating  their  own  first  principles  in  yielding  to  all 

rags,  and  so  dirty,  as  to  be  disgusting  to  the  father;  he  was  frequently 
beaten,  to  try  whether  it  would  force  tears  down  the  parent's  squalid  cheeks. 
"  Nevertheless,  for  the  love  of  Christ !  !  !  and  from  the  virtue  of  obedience, 
the  heart  of  the  father  remained  hard  and  unmoved;"  he  thought  little  of 
his  child's  tears,  only  of  his  own  humility  and  perfection.  He  at  length  was 
urged  to  show  the  last  mark  of  his  submission  by  throwing  the  child  into  the 
river.  As  if  this  was  a  commandment  of  God,  he  seized  the  child,  and  "  the 
work  of  faith  and  obedience"  would  have  been  accomplished,  if  the  brethren 
had  not  interposed,  "  and,  as  it  were,  rescued  the  child  fiom  the  waters." 
And  Cassian  relates  this  as  an  act  of  the  highest  religious  heroism !  —  Litx 
iv.  27. 


Chap.  XI.        IGNORANCE  —  ANTHROPOMORPHISM.  217 

the  savage  passions,  and  mingling  in  the  bloody  strife, 
of  that  world  which  they  had  abandoned. 

Total  seclusion  from  mankind  is  as  dangerous  to 
enlightened  religion  as  to  Christian  charity.  We  might 
have  expected  to  find  among  those  who  separated 
themselves  from  the  world,  to  contemplate. 

Till  T  o        '  Ignorance 

undisturbed,  the  nature  and  perfections  of 
the  Deity,  in  general,  the  purest  and  most  spiritual 
notions  of  the  Godhead.  Those  whose  primary  priii 
ciple  was  dread  of  the  corruption  of  matter  would  be 
the  last  coarsely  to  materialize  their  divinity.  But 
those  who  could  elevate  their  thoughts,  or  could  main- 
tain them  at  this  height,  were  but  a  small  part  of  the 
vast  numbers,  whom  the  many-mingled  motives  of 
zeal,  superstition,  piety,  pride,  emulation,  or  distaste 
for  the  world,  led  into  the  desert.  They  required 
something  more  gross  and  palpable  than  the  fine  and 
subtle  conception  of  a  spiritual  being.  Superstition, 
not  content  with  crowding  the  brain  with  imaginary 
figments,  spread  its  darkening  mists  over  the  Deity 
himself. 

It  was  among  the  monks  of  Egypt  that  anthropomor- 
phism assumed  its  most  vulgar  and  obstinate  form. 
They  would  not  be  persuaded  that  the  expressions  in 
the  sacred  writings  which  ascribe  human  acts,  and 
faculties,  and  passions  to  the  Deity  were  to  be  under- 
stood as  a  condescension  to  the  weakness  of  our 
nature  ;  they  seemed  disposed  to  compensate  to  them- 
selves for  the  loss  of  human  society  by  degrading  the 
Deity,  whom  they  professed  to  be  their  sole  companion, 
to  the  likeness  of  man.  Imagination  could  not  main- 
tain its  flight,  and  they  could  not  summon  reason, 
which  they  surrendered  with  the  rest  of  their  dangerous 
freedom,  to  supply  its  place  ;  and  generally  supersti- 


218  ANTHROPOMORPHISM.  Book  HI. 

tion  demanded  and  received  the  same  implicit  and 
resolute  obedience  as  religion  itself.  Once  having 
humanized  the  Deity,  they  could  not  be  weaned  from 
the  object  of  their  worship.  Tlie  great  cause  of 
quarrel  between  Theophilus,  tlie  Archbishop  of  Alex- 
andria, and  the  monks  of  the  adjacent  establishments, 
was  his  vain  attempt  to  enliglitcn  tliem  on  those 
points  to  which  they  obstinately  adhered,  as  the  vital 
and  essential  part  of  their  faith. 

Pride,  moreover,  is  almost  the  necessary  result  of 
such  distinctions  as  the  monks  drew  between  them- 
selves and  tlie  rest  of  mankind  ;  and  prejudice  and 
obstinacy  are  the  natural  fruits  of  pride.  Once  hav- 
ing embraced  opinions,  however,  as  in  this  instance, 
contrary  to  their  primary  principles,  small  communi- 
ties are  with  the  utmost  difficulty  induced  to  surrender 
those  tenets  in  which  tliey  sii})port  and  strengthen 
each  other  by  the  general  concurrence.  The  anthro- 
pomorphism of  the  Egyptian  monks  resisted  alike 
argument  and  authority.  The  bitter  and  desperate 
remonstrance  of  the  aged  Serapion,  when  he  was 
forced  to  surrender  his  anthropomorphic  notions  of 
the  Deity,  — "  You  have  deprived  me  of  my  God,"  ^ 
—  shows  not  merely  the  degraded  intellectual  state  of 
the  monks  of  Egypt,  but  the  incapacity  of  the  mass 
of  mankind  to  keep  up  such  high-wrought  and  imagi- 
native conceptions.  Enthusiasm  of  any  particular 
kind  wastes  itself  as  soon  as  its  votaries  become 
numerous.  It  may  hand  down  its  lamp  from  indi- 
vidual to  individual  for  many  generations :  but,  when 
it  would  include  a  whole  section  of  society,  it  substi- 
tutes some  new  incentive,  strong  party  or  corporate 
feeling,  habit,  advantage,  or  the  pride  of  exclusiveness, 

1  Cassian,  Collat.  x.  1. 


Chap.  XI.  GENERAL  EFFECTS   OF  MONACHISM.  219 

for  its  original  disinterested  zeal ;  and  can  never  for  a 
long  period  adhere  to  its  original  principles. 

The  effect  of  Monachism  on  Christianity,  and  on 
society  at  large,  was  of  a  very  mingled  ^^^^^^^ 
character.  Its  actual  influence  on  the  popu-  achlJ^°on^°"' 
lation  of  the  empire  was  probably  not  con- ^^"^"^^'^'^y- 
siderable,  and  would  scarcely  counterbalance  the 
increase  arising  out  of  the  superior  morality,  as  re- 
gards sexual  intercourse,  introduced  by  the  Christian 
religion.^  Some  apprehensions,  indeed,  were  betrayed 
on  this  point ;  and  when  the  opponents  of  Monachism 
urged,  that,  if  such  principles  were  universally  ad- 
mitted, the  human  race  would  come  to  an  end,  its 
resolute  advocates  replied,  that  the  Almighty,  if 
necessary,  would  appoint  new  means  for  the  propaga- 
tion of  mankind. 

The  withdrawal  of  so  much  ardor,  talent,  and  virtue 
into  seclusion,  which,  however  elevating  to  onponticai 
the  individual,  became  altogether  unprofi-  ^^'"'■^" 
table  to  society,  might  be  considered  a  more  serious 
objection.  The  barren  world  could  ill  spare  any 
active  or  inventive  mind.  Public  affairs,  at  this  dis- 
astrous  period,    demanded   the   best   energies   which 

1  There  is  a  curious  passage  of  St.  Ambrose  on  this  point.  "  Si  quis  igi- 
tur  putat,  conservatione  virginum  minui  genus  humauum,  consideret,  quia, 
ubi  paucae  virgines,  ibi  etiam  pauciores  homines:  ubi  virginitatis  studia 
crebriora,  ibi  numerum  quoque  hominum  esse  majorem.  Dicite,  quantas  Alex- 
andrina,  totiusque  Orientis,  et  Africana  ecclesia,  quotannis  sacrare  consueve- 
rint.  Pauciores  htc  homines  prodeunt,  quam  illic  virgines  consecrantur." 
We  should  wish  to  know  whether  there  was  any  statistical  ground  for  this 
singular  assertion,  that,  in  those  regions  in  which  celibacy  was  most  prac- 
tised, the  population  increased;  or  whether  Egypt,  the  East,  and  Africa 
were  generally  more  prolific  than  Italy.  The  assertion  that  the  vows  of  vir- 
ginity in  those  countries  exceeded  the  births  in  the  latter  is,  most  probably, 
to  be  set  down  to  antithesis.  Compare  a  good  essay  of  Zumpt,  in  the  Trans- 
actions of  the  Berlin  Academy,  1840,  on  this  subject.  He  concludes  that 
Christianity  generally  tended  to  diminish  the  population  of  the  empire. 
(1863.) 


220  GENERAL  EFFECTS  OF  MONACHISM.         Book  IU. 

could  be  combined  from  the  whole  Roman  empire  for 
their  administration.  This  dereliction  of  their  social 
duties  by  so  many,  could  not  but  leave  the  competition 
more  open  to  the  base  and  unworthy ;  particularly  as 
the  actual  abandonment  of  the  world,  and  the  capa- 
bility of  ardent  enthusiasm,  in  men  of  high  station 
or  of  commanding  intellect,  displayed  a  force  and  in- 
dependence of  character  which  might,  it  should  seem, 
have  rendered  important  active  service  to  mankind. 
If  barbarians  were  admitted  by  a  perilous,  yet  in- 
evitable policy,  into  the  chief  military  commands,  was 
not  this  measure  at  least  hastened,  not  merely  by  the 
general  influence  of  Christianity,  which  reluctantly 
permitted  its  votaries  to  enter  into  the  army,  but  still 
more  by  Monachism,  which  withdrew  them  altogether 
into  religious  inactivity  ?  The  civil  and  fiscal  depart- 
ments, and  especially  that  of  pubHc  education  con- 
ducted by  salaried  professors,  might  also  be  deprived 
of  some  of  the  most  eligible  and  useful  candidates  for 
employment.  At  a  time  of  such  acknowledged  de- 
ficiency, it  may  have  appeared  little  less  than  treason- 
able indifference  to  the  public  welfare,  to  break  all 
connection  with  mankind,  and  to  dwell  in  unsocial  se- 
clusion entirely  on  individual  interests.  Such  might 
have  been  the  remonstrance  of  a  sober  and  dispas- 
sionate Pagan, ^  and  in  part  of  those  few  more  rational 
Christians,  who  could  not  consider  the  rigid  monastic 
Christianity  as  the  original  religion  of  its  divine 
founder. 

If,  indeed,  this  peaceful  enthusiasm  had  counter- 
acted any  general  outburst  of  patriotism,  or  left  vacant 
or  abandoned  to  worthless  candidates  posts  in  the  pub- 
lic service  which  could  be  commanded  by  great  talents 

1  Compare  the  law  of  Valens,  De  Monachis,  quoted  above. 


Chap.  XL  ADVANTAGES   OF  MONACHISM.  221 

and  honorable  integrity,  Monachism  might  fairly  be 
charged  with  weakening  the  energies  and  deadening 
the  resistance  of  the  Roman  empire  to  its  gathering 
and  multiplying  adversaries.  But  the  state  of  public 
affairs  probably  tended  more  to  the  growth  of  Mona- 
chism, than  Monachism  to  the  disorder  and  disorgan 
ization  of  public  affairs.  The  partial  and  unjust 
distribution  of  the  rewards  of  public  service ;  the  un 
certainty  of  distinction  in  any  career,  in  which  success 
entirely  depended  on  the  favoritism  and  intrigue  witliin 
the  narrow  circle  of  the  court ;  the  difficulty  of  emer- 
ging to  eminence  under  a  despotism  by  fair  and  hon- 
orable means ;  disgust  and  disappointment  at  slighted 
pretensions  and  baffled  hopes  ;  the  general  and  appar- 
ently hopeless  oppression  which  weighed  down  all 
mankind ;  the  total  extinction  of  the  generous  feelings 
of  freedom ;  the  conscious  decrepitude  of  the  human 
mind ;  the  inevitable  conviction  that  its  productive 
energies  in  knowledge,  literature,  and  arts  were  ex- 
tinct and  effete,  and  that  every  path  was  pre-occupied, 
—  all  these  concurrent  motives  might  naturally,  in  a 
large  proportion  of  the  most  vigorous  and  useful  minds, 
generate  a  distaste  and  weariness  of  the  world.  Re- 
ligion, then  almost  universally  dominant,  would  seize 
on  this  feeling,  and  enlist  it  in  her  service  ;  it  would 
avail  itself  of,  not  produce,  the  despondent  determina- 
tion to  abandon  an  ungrateful  world ;  it  g^^^^^  ^^  ^^.^ 
would  ennoble  and  exalt  the  preconceived  advantages. 
motives  for  seclusion ;  give  a  kind  of  conscious  gran- 
deur to  inactivity,  and  substitute  a  dreamy  but  elevating 
love  for  the  Deity  for  contemptuous  misanthropy,  as 
the  justification  for  the  total  desertion  of  social  duty. 
Monachism,  in  short,  instead  of  precipitating  the  fall 
of  the  Roman  empire  by  enfeebling  in  any  great  de- 


222  ADVANTAGES   OF  MONACHISM.  Book  IH. 

gree  its  powers  of  resistance,  enabled  some  portion  of 
mankind  to  escape  from  the  feeling  of  shame  and 
misery.  Amid  the  irremediable  evils  and  the  wretched- 
ness that  could  not  be  averted,  it  was  almost  a  social 
benefit  to  raise  some  part  of  mankind  to  a  state  of 
serene  indifference,  to  render  some  at  least  superior  to 
the  general  calamities. 

Monachism,  indeed,  directly  secured  many  in  their 
isolation  from  all  domestic  ties,  from  that  worst  suffer- 
ing inflicted  by  barbarous  warfare,  the  sight  of  beloved 
females  outraged,  and  innocent  children  butchered. 
In  those  times,  the  man  was  happiest  who  had  least  to 
lose,  and  who  exposed  the  fewest  vulnerable  points  of 
feeling  or  sympathy.  The  natural  affections,  in  which, 
in  ordinary  times,  consists  the  best  happiness  of  man, 
were  in  those  days  such  perilous  indulgences,  that  he 
who  was  entirely  detached  from  them,  embraced,  per- 
haps, considering  temporal  views  alone,  the  most  pru- 
dent course.  The  solitary  could  but  suffer  in  his  own 
person  ;  and  though  by  no  means  secure  in  his  sanctity 
from  insult,  or  even  death,  his  self-inflicted  privations 
hardened  him  against  the  former,  his  high-wrought 
enthusiasm  enabled  him  to  meet  the  latter  with  calm 
resignation :  he  liad  none  to  leave  whom  he  had  to 
lament,  none  to  lament  him  after  his  departure.  The 
spoiler  who  found  his  way  to  his  secret  cell  was  baffled 
by  his  poverty ;  and  the  sword  which  cut  short  his 
days  but  shortened  his  painful  pilgrimage  on  earth, 
and  removed  him  at  once  to  an  anticipated  heaven. 
With  what  different  feelings  would  he  behold,  in  his 
poor  and  naked  and  solitary  cell,  the  approach  of  the 
blood-thirsty  barbarians,  from  the  father  of  a  family, 
in  his  splendid  palace,  or  his  more  modest  and  com- 
fortable private   dwelling,  with   a  wife  in  his  arms, 


Chap.  XI.  EFFECTS  OF  MONACHISM.  223 

whose  death  he  would  desire  to  see  rather  than  that 
worse  than  death  to  which  she  might  first  be  doomed 
in  his  presence  ;  with  helpless  children  clinging  around 
his  knees ;  the  blessings  which  he  had  enjoyed,  the 
wealth  or  comfort  of  his  house,  the  beauty  of  his  wife, 
of  his  daughters,  or  even  of  his  sons,  boing  the  strong- 
est attraction  to  the  spoiler,  and  irritating  more  vio- 
lently that  spoiler's  merciless  and  unsparing  passions. 
If  to  some  the  monastic  state  offered  a  refuge  for  the 
sad  remainder  of  their  bereaved  life,  others  may  have 
taken  warning  in  time,  and  with  deliberate  forethought 
refused  to  implicate  themselves  in  tender  connections, 
which  were  threatened  with  such  deplorable  end. 
Those  who  secluded  themselves  from  domestic  rela- 
tions from  other  motives,  at  all  events,  were  secured 
from  such  miseries,  and  might  be  envied  by  those  wlio 
had  played  the  game  of  life  for  a  higher  stake,  and  ven- 
tured on  its  purest  pleasures,  with  the  danger  of  in- 
curring all  its  bitterest  reverses. 

Monachism  tended  powerfully  to  keep  up  the  vital 
enthusiasm  of  Christianity.  Allusion  has  Effect  on  the 
been  made  to  its  close  connection  with  the  0^0^-^'^'^^ 
conversion  both  of  the  Roman  and  the  Bar-  *i^'^'^y- 
barian ;  and  to  the  manner  in  which,  from  its  settle- 
ment in  some  retired  Pagan  district,  it  gradually 
disseminated  the  faith,  and  sometimes  the  industrious, 
always  the  moral,  influence  of  Christianity  through  the 
neighborhood  in  a  gradually  expanding  circle.  Its 
peaceful  colonies,  within  the  frontier  of  Barbarism, 
slowly  but  uninterruptedly  subdued  the  fierce  or  indo- 
lent savages  to  the  religion  of  Christ  and  the  manners 
and  habits  of  civilization.  But  its  internal  influence 
was  not  less  visible,  immediate,  and  inexhaustible. 
The  more  extensive  dissemination  of  Christianity  natu- 


224  EFFECTS  OF  MONACHISM.  Book  III. 

rally  weakened  its  authority.  When  the  small  primi- 
tive assembly  cf  the  Christians  grew  into  an  universal 
Church  ;  when  the  village,  the  town,  the  city,  the  prov- 
ince, the  empire,  became  in  outward  form  and  profess- 
ion Christian,  —  the  practical  Heathenism  only  retired 
to  work  more  silently  and  imperceptibly  into  the  Chris- 
tian system.  The  wider  the  circle,  the  fainter  the  line 
of  distinction  from  the  surrounding  waters.  Small 
societies  have  a  kind  of  self-acdng  principle  of  conser- 
vation within.  Mutual  inspection  generates  mutual 
awe  ;  the  generous  rivalry  in  religious  attainment  keeps 
up  regularity  in  attendance  on  the  sacred  institutions, 
and  at  least  propriety  of  demeanor.  Such  small  com- 
munities may  be  disturbed  by  religious  faction,  but  are 
long  before  they  degenerate  into  unchristian  licentious- 
ness or  languish  into  religious  apathy.  But  when  a 
large  proportion  of  Christians  received  the  faith  as  an 
inheritance  from  their  fathers  rather  than  from  per- 
sonal conviction  ;  when  hosts  of  deserters  from  Pagan- 
ism passed  over  into  the  opposite  camp,  not  because  it 
was  the  best,  but  because  it  was  the  most  flourishing 
cause,  —  it  became  inexpedient,  as  well  as  impossible, 
to  maintain  the  severer  discipline  of  former  times.  But 
Monachism  was  constantly  re-organizing  small  societies, 
in  which  the  bond  of  aggregation  was  the  common  reli- 
gious fervor,  in  which  emulation  continually  kept  up 
the  excitement,  and  mutual  vigilance  exercised  unre- 
sisted authority.  The  exaggeration  of  their  religious 
sentiments  was  at  once  the  tenure  of  their  existence 
and  the  guarantee  for  their  perpetuity.  Men  would 
never  be  wanting  to  enroll  themselves  in  their  ranks, 
and  their  constitution  prevented  them  from  growing  to 
an  unmanageable  size.  When  one  establishment  or 
institution  wore  out,  another  was  sure  to  spring  up. 


Chap.  XL  EFFECTS  OF  MONACHISM.  225 

The  republics  of  Monachism  were  constantly  reverting 
to  their  first  principles,  and  undergoing  a  vigorous  and 
thorough  reformation.  Thus,  throughout  the  whole 
of  Christian  history,  until,  or  even  after,  the  Reforma- 
tion, within  the  Church  of  Rome,  we  find  either  new 
monastic  orders  rising,  or  the  old  remodelled  and  regu- 
lated by  the  zeal  of  some  ardent  enthusiast.  The 
associatory  principle,  that  great  political  and  religious 
engine  which  is  either  the  conservative  or  the  destruc- 
tive power  in  every  period  of  society,  was  constantly 
embracing  a  certain  number  of  persons  devoted  to  a 
common  end  ;  and  the  new  sect,  distinguished  by  some 
peculiar  badge  of  dress,  of  habit,  or  of  monastic  rule, 
re-embodied  some  of  the  fervor  of  primitive  Chris- 
tianity, and  awakened  the  growing  lethargy,  by  the  ex- 
ample of  unusual  austerities  or  rare  and  exemplary 
activity  in  the  dissemination  of  the  faith. 

The  beneficial  tendency  of  this  constant  formation 
of  young  and  vigorous  societies  in  the  bosom  of  Chris- 
tianity was  of  more  importance  in  the  times  of  desola- 
tion and  confusion  which  impended  over  the  Roman 
empire.  In  this  respect,  likewise,  their  lofty  preten- 
sions insured  their  utility.  Where  reason  itself  was 
about  to  be  in  abeyalice,  rational  religion  would  have 
had  but  little  chance :  it  would  have  commanded  no 
respect.  Christianity,  in  its  primitive  simple  and  un- 
assuming form,  might  have  imparted  its  holiness  and 
peace  and  happiness  to  retired  families,  whether  in 
the  city  or  the  province ;  but  its  modest  and  retiring 
dignity  would  have  made  no  impression  on  the  general 
tone  and  character  of  society.  There  was  something 
in  the  seclusion  of  religious  men  from  mankind,  in 
their  standing  aloof  from  the  rest  of  the  world,  calcu- 
lated to  impress  V>arbarous  minds  with  a  feeling  of 

VOL.  III.  15 


226  INFLUENCE  ON  THE  CLERGY.      Book  HI. 

their  peculiar  sanctity.  The  less  they  were  like  to 
ordinary  men,  the  more,  in  the  ordinary  estimation, 
they  were  approximated  to  the  divinity.  At  all  events, 
this  apparently  broad  and  manifest  evidence  of  their 
religious  sincerity  would  be  more  impressive  to  unrea- 
soning minds  than  the  habits  of  the  clergy,  which 
approached  more  nearly  to  those  of  the  common 
laity.i 

The  influence  of  this  continual  rivalry  of  another 
Influence  on  sacrcd  thougli  uot  dccidcdly  sacerdotal  class, 
the  clergy,  ^^q^^  f\^Q  secular  clcrgy,  led  to  important  re- 
sults. "We  may  perhaps  ascribe  to  the  constant  pres- 
ence of  Monachism  the  continuance  and  the  final 
recognition  of  the  celibacy  of  the  clergy,  the  vital  prin- 
ciple of  the  ecclesiastical  power  in  the  Middle  Ages. 
Without  the  powerful  direct  support  which  they  re- 
ceived from  the  monastic  orders ;  without  the  indirect 
authority  over  the  minds  of  men  which  flowed  from 
their  example,  and  inseparably  connected,  in  the  popu- 
lar mind,  superior  sanctity  with  the  renunciation  of 
marriage,  —  the  ambitious  popes  would  never  have  been 
able,  particularly  in  the  north,  to  part  the  clergy  by 
this  strong  line  of  demarcation  from  the  profane  laity. 
As  it  was,  it  required  the  most  vigorous  and  continued 
In  promoting  effort  to  cstabHsh,  by  ecclesiastical  regulation 
ceubacy.  ^^^  papal  powcr,  that  which  was  no  longer 
in  accordance  with  the  religious  sentiments  of  the 
clergy  themselves.     The  general  practice  of  marriage, 

1  The  monks  were  originally  la3Tnen  (Cassian,  v.  26):  gradually  churches 
were  attached  to  the  monasteries,  but  these  were  served  by  regularly  or- 
dained clergy  (Pallad.  Hist.  Lausiaca.);  but  their  reputation  for  sanctity 
constantly  exposed  them  to  be  seized  and  consecrated  by  the  ardent  admira- 
tion of  their  followers.  Theiner  has  collected  with  considerable  labor  a  long 
list  of  the  more  celebrated  prelates  of  the  Church  who  had  been  monks,  p.  106. 
"  Ita  ergo  age  et  vive  in  monasterio  ut  clericus  esse  merearis."  —  Hieron. 
Epist.  ad  Rustic.  95. 


Chap.  XL  MONACHISM.  227 

or  of  a  kind  of  legalized  concubinage,  among  the 
northern  clergy,  showed  the  tendency,  if  it  had  not 
been  thus  counteracted  by  the  rival  order,  and  by  the 
dominant  ecclesiastical  policy  of  the  Church.^  But  it  is 
impossible  to  calculate  the  effect  of  that  complete 
blending  up  of  the  clergy  with  the  rest  of  the  commu- 
nity, which  would  probably  haye  ensued  from  the 
gradual  abrogation  of  this  single  distinction  at  this 
juncture.  The  interests  of  their  order,  in  men  con- 
nected with  the  community  by  the  ordinary  social  ties, 
would  have  been  secondary  to  their  own  personal  ad- 
vancement, or  that  of  their  families.  They  would  have 
ceased  to  be  a  peculiar  and  separate  caste,  and  sunk 
down  into  the  common  penury,  rudeness,  and  igno- 
rance. Their  influence  would  be  closely  connected 
with  their  wealth  and  dignity,  which,  of  course,  on  the 
other  hand,  would  tend  to  augment  their  influence ; 
but  that  corporate  ambition  which  induced  them  to 
consider  the  cause  of  their  order  as  their  own,  that 
desire  of  riches  which  wore  the  honorable  appearance 
of  personal  disinterestedness  and  zeal  for  the  splendor 
of  religion,  could  not  have  existed  but  in  a  class  com- 
pletely insulated  from  the  common  feelings  and  inter- 
ests of  the  community.  Individual  members  of  the 
clergy  might  have  become  wealthy,  and  obtained  au- 
thority over  the  ignorant  herd ;  but  there  would  have 
been  no  opulent  and  powerful  Church,  acting  with 
vigorous  unity,  and  arranged  in  simultaneous  hostility 
against  Barbarism  and  Paganism. 

Our  history  must  hereafter  trace  the  connection  of 
the  independence  and  separate  existence  of  the  clergy 

1  The  general  question  of  the  celibacy  of  the  clergy  will  be  subsequently 
examined.  Compare  Latin  Christianity,  especially  the  great  struggle  at 
.  Milan,  book  vi.  c  iii. 


228  MONAcmsM.  book  m 

with  the  maintenance  and  the  authority  of  Christian- 
ity. But  even  as  conservators  of  the  lingering  re- 
mains of  science,  arts,  and  letters,  as  the  sole  order  to 
which  some  kind  of  intellectual  education  was  neces- 
sary, when  knowledge  was  a  distinction  which  alone 
commanded  respect,  the  clergy  were,  not  without  ad- 
vantage, secured  by  their  celibacy  from  the  cares  and 
toils  of  social  life.  In  this  respect,  Monachism  acted 
in  two  ways,  —  as  itself  the  most  efficient  guardian  of 
what  was  most  worth  preserving  in  the  older  civiliza- 
tion, and  as  preventing,  partly  by  emulation,  partly  by 
this  enforcement  of  celibacy,  the  secular  clergy  from 
degenerating  universally  into  that  state  of  total  igno- 
rance which  prevailed  among  them  in  some  quarters. 

It  is  impossible  to  survey  Monachism  in  its  general 
influence,  from  the  earliest  period  of  its  interworking 
into  Christianity,  without  being  astonished  and  per- 
plexed with  its  diametrically  opposite  effects.  Here, 
it  is  the  undoubted  parent  of  the  blindest  ignorance 
and  the  most  ferocious  bigotry,  sometimes  of  the  most 
debasing  licentiousness ;  there,  the  guardian  of  learn- 
ing, the  author  of  civilization,  the  propagator  of  hum- 
ble and  peaceful  religion.  To  the  dominant  spirit  of 
Monachism  may  be  ascribed  some  part  at  least  of  the 
gross  superstition  and  moral  inefficiency  of  the  Church 
in  the  Byzantine  empire ;  to  the  same  spirit  much  of 
the  salutary  authority  of  Western  Christianity,  its  con- 
stant aggressions  on  Barbarism,  and  its  connection 
with  the  Latin  literature.  Yet  neither  will  the  differ- 
ent genius  of  the  East  and  West  account  for  this  con- 
tradictory operation  of  the  monastic  spirit  in  the  two 
divisions  of  the  Roman  empire.  If  human  nature 
was  degraded  by  the  filth  and  fanatic  self-torture,  the 
callous  apathy,  and  the  occasional  sanguinary  violence, 


Chap.  XL  MONACHISM.  229 

of  the  Egyptian  or  Syrian  monk,  yet  the  monastic 
retreat  sent  forth  its  Basils  and  Chrysostoms,  who 
seemed  to  have  braced  their  strong  intellects  by  the 
air  of  the  desert.  Their  intrepid  and  disinterested 
devotion  to  their  great  cause,  the  complete  concentra- 
tion of  their  whole  faculties  on  the  advancement  of 
Christianity,  seemed  strengthened  by  this  entire  de- 
tachment from  mankind. 

Nothing  can  be  conceived  more  apparently  opposed 
to  the  designs  of  the  God  of  nature,  and  to  the  mild 
and  beneficent  spirit  of  Christianity ;  nothing  more 
hostile  to  the  dignity,  the  interests,  the  happiness,  and 
the  intellectual  and  moral  perfection  of  man, — than  the 
monk  afflicting  himself  with  unnecessary  pain,  and 
thrilling  his  soul  with  causeless  fears ;  confined  to  a 
dull  routine  of  religious  duties ;  jealously  watching, 
and  proscribing  every  emotion  of  pleasure  as  a  sin 
against  the  benevolent  Deity;  dreading  knowledge 
as  an  impious  departure  from  the  becoming  humility 
of  man. 

On  the  other  hand,  what  generous  or  lofty  mind  can 
refuse  to  acknowledge  the  grandeur  of  that  superior- 
ity to  all  the  cares  and  passions  of  mortality,  the 
felicity  of  that  state  which  is  removed  far  above  the 
fears  or  the  necessities  of  life,  that  sole  passion  of 
admiration  and  love  of  the  Deity,  which  no  doubt  was 
attained  by  some  of  the  purer  and  more  imaginative 
enthusiasts  of  the  cell  or  the  cloister?  Who,  still 
more,  will  dare  to  depreciate  that  heroism  of  Christian 
benevolence,  which  underwent  this  self-denial  of  the 
lawful  enjoyments  and  domestic  charities  of  which  it 
had  neither  extinguished  the  desire  nor  subdued  the 
regret,  —  not  from  the  slavish  fear  of  displeasing  the 
Deity,  or  the  selfish  ambition  of  personal  perfection, 


230  LIFE  OF  JEROME.  Book  IH. 

but  from  the  genuine  desire  of  advancing  the  tem- 
poral and  eternal  improvement  of  mankind,  of  im- 
parting the  moral  amelioration  and  spiritual  hopes  of 
Christianity  to  the  wretched  and  the  barbarous,  of 
being  the  messengers  of  Christian  faith,  and  the  minis- 
ters of  Christian  charity,  to  the  Heathen,  whether  in 
creed  or  in  character  ? 

We  return,  from  this  long  but  not  unnecessary 
Life  of  digression,  to  the  life  of  Jerome,  the  great 

Jerome.  advocatc  of  Monacliism  in  the  West.  Jerome 
began  and  closed  his  career  as  a  monk  of  Palestine: 
he  attained,  he  aspired  to,  no  dignity  in  the  Church. 
Though  ordained  a  presbyter  against  his  will,  he 
escaped  the  episcopal  dignity  which  was  forced  upon 
his  distinguished  contemporaries.  He  left  to  Ambrose, 
to  Chrysostom,  and  to  Augustine  the  authority  of 
office,  and  was  content  with  the  lower  but  not  less 
extensive  influence  of  personal  communication,  or  the 
effect  of  his  writings.  After  having  passed  his  youth 
in  literary  studies  in  Rome,  and  in  travelling  through- 
out the  West,  he  visited  Palestine.  During  his  voyage 
to  the  East,  he  surveyed  some  great  cities,  and  con- 
sulted their  libraries :  he  was  received  in  Cyprus  by 
the  bishop  Epiphanius.  In  Syria,  he  plunged  at  once 
into  the  severest  austerities  of  asceticism.  I  have 
already  inserted  the  lively  description  of  the  inward 
struggles  and  agonies  which  tried  him  during  his  first 
retreat  in  the  Arabian  desert. 

But  Jerome  had  other  trials  peculiar  to  himself.  It 
Trials  of  was  uot  SO  mucli  the  indulgence  of  the  coarser 
ilia  retreat,  passious,  tlic  lusts,  aud  amMtiou  of  the  world, 
which  distressed  his  religious  sensibilities  :  ^  it  was  the 

1  Jerome  says,  "  Prima  est  virgiuitas  a  nativitate ;  secunda  virginitas  a 
secunda  nativitate:"  he  ingenuously  confesses  tliat  he  could  only  boast  of 
the  second.  — Epist.  xxv.  iv.  p.  242;  Oper.  iv.  p.  459. 


Chap.  XI.  JEROME.  231 

nobler  and  more  intellectual  part  of  his  being  which 
was  endangered  by  the  fond  reminiscences  of  his 
former  days.  He  began  to  question  the  lawfulness  of 
those  literary  studies  which  had  been  the  delight  of  his 
youth.  He  had  brought  with  him,  his  sole  compan- 
ions, besides  the  sacred  books  of  his  religion,  the  great 
masters  of  poetry  and  philosophy,  of  Greek  and  Latin 
style  ;  and  the  magic  of  Plato's  and  Cicero's  language, 
to  his  refined  and  fastidious  ear,  made  the  sacred  writ- 
ings of  Christianity,  on  which  he  was  intently  fixed, 
appear  rude  and  barbarous.  In  his  retreat  in  His  classical 
Bethlehem,  he  had  undertaken  the  study  of  '^''^^'' 
Hebrew,^  as  a  severe  occupation  to  withdraw  him  from 
those  impure  and  worldly  thoughts  which  his  austeri- 
ties had  not  entirely  subdued  ;  and,  in  the  weary  hours 
when  he  was  disgusted  with  his  difficult  task,  he  could 
not  refrain  from  recurring,  as  a  solace,  to  his  favorite 
authors.  But  even  this  indulgence  alarmed  his  jealous 
conscience ;  though  he  fasted  before  he  opened  his 
Cicero,  his  mind  dwelt  with  too  intense  delight  on  the 
language  of  the  orator ;  and  the  distaste  with  which 
he  passed  from  the  musical  periods  of  Plato  to  the 
verses  of  the  Prophets,  of  which  his  ear  had  not  yet 
perceived  tlie  harmony,  and  his  Roman  taste  had  not 
perhaps  imbibed  the  full  sublimity,  appeared  to  him 
as  an  impious  offence  against  his  religion .^  The  in- 
ward struggles  of  his  mind  threw  him  into  a  fever  ;  he 
was  thought  to  be  dead  ;  and,  in  the  lethargic  dream  of 
his  distempered  imagination,  he  thought  that  he  be- 

1  His  description  of  Hebrew,  as  compared  with  Latin,  is  curious :  "  Ad 
quam  edomandam,  cuidem  fratri,  qui  ex  Hebrseis  crediderat,  me  in  disciplinam 
dedi  ut  post  Quintiliani  acumina,  gravitatemque  Frontonis,  et  levitatem 
Plinii,  alphabetuni  discerem  et  stridentia  anhelaque  verba  meditarer  —  quid 
ibi  laboris  iusumserim  ?  "  —  Epist.  xcv.  ad  Rusticum,  p.  774. 

^  "  Si  quando  in  raemet  reversus,  Prophetas  legere  coepissem,  sermo  hor- 
rebat  incultus."  — Epist.  xviii.  ad  Eustoch.  iv.  d  42. 


232  JEROME  — HIS   CLASSICAL  STUDIES.         Book  III. 

held  himself  before  the  throne  of  the  great  Judge, 
before  the  brightness  of  which  he  dared  not  lift  up  his 
eyes.  "  Who  art  thou  ?  "  demanded  the  awful  voice. 
"  A  Christian,"  answered  the  trembling  Jerome.^  "  'Tis 
false,"  sternly  replied  the  voice  ;  "  thou  art  no  Chris- 
tian :  thou  art  a  Ciceronian.  Where  the  treasure  is, 
there  is  the  heart  also."  Yet,  however  the  scrupulous 
conscience  of  Jerome  might  tremble  at  this  profane  ad- 
mixture of  sacred  and  heathen  studies,  he  was  probably 
qualified  in  a  high  degree  by  this  very  discordant  colli- 
sion of  opposite  tastes  for  one  of  the  great  services 
which  he  was  to  render  to  Christianity.  No  writer, 
without  that  complete  mastery  over  the  Latin  language 
which  could  only  be  attained  by  constant  familiarity 
with  its  best  models,  could  so  have  harmonized  its 
genius  with  the  foreign  elements  which  were  to  be 
mingled  with  it,  as  to  produce  the  vivid  and  glowing 
style  of  the  Vulgate  Bible.  That  this  is  far  removed 
from  the  purity  of  Tully,  no  one  will  question :  I  shall 
hereafter  consider  more  at  length  its  genius  and  its  in- 
fluence ;  but  we  may  conjecture  what  would  have  been 
the  harsh,  jarring,  and  inharmonious  discord  of  the  op- 
posing elements,  if  tlie  translator  had  only  been  conver- 
sant with  the  African  Latinity  of  Tertullian,  or  the 
elaborate  obscurity  of  writers  like  Ammianus  Marcel- 
linus. 

Jerome  could  not,  in  the  depths  of  his  retreat,  or  in 
the  absorbing  occupation  of  his  studies,  escape  being 
involved  in  those  controversies  which  distracted  the 

1  "  Interim  parantur  exequise,  et  vitalis  animaj  calor,  toto  frigescente  jam 
corpore,  in  solo  tantum  tepente  pulvisculo,  palpitabat;  quum  subito  raptus 
in  spiritu,  ad  tribunal  judicis  pertrahor;  ubi  tantum  luminis,  et  tantum  erat 
ex  circumstantium  claritate  fulgoris,  ut  projectus  in  terram,  sursum  aspicere 
non  auderem.  Interrogatus  de  conditione,  Christianum  me  esse  respond! 
Et  ille  qui  prsesidebat  mortuis  ait,  Ciceronianus  es,  non  Christianus;  ubi  enim 
thesaurus  tuus,  ibi  et  cor  tuumJ"  —  Ad.  Eustoch.  Epist.  xviii.  iv.  p.  42. 


Chap.  XL  MORALITY  OF  ROMAN  CLERGY.  2b3 

Eastern  churches,  and  penetrated  to  the  cell  of  the 
remotest  anchorite.  He  returned  to  the  West  to  avoid 
the  restless  polemics  of  his  brother  monks.  Retumto 
On  his  return  to  Rome,  the  fame  of  his  piety  ^°'"^- 
and  talents  commended  him  to  the  confidence  of  the 
pope  Damasus,^  by  whom  he  was  employed  in  the 
most  important  affairs  of  the  Roman  see.  But  either 
the  influence  or  the  opinions  of  Jerome  ex-  Morality  of 
cited  the  jealousy  of  the  Roman  clergy,  whose  ciergy. 
vices  Jerome  paints  in  no  softened  colors.  We  almost, 
in  this  contest,  behold  a  kind  of  prophetic  prelude  to 
the  perpetual  strife,  which  has  existed  in  almost  all 
ages,  between  the  secular  and  regular  clergy,  the  hie- 
rarchical and  monastic  spirit.  Though  the  monastic 
opinions  and  practices  were  by  no  means  unprece- 
dented in  Italy  (they  had  been  first  introduced  by 
Athanasius  in  his  flight  from  Egypt)  ;  though  they 
were  maintained  by  Ambrose,  and  practised  by  some 
recluses,  —  yet  the  pomp,  the  wealth,  and  the  authority 
of  the  Roman  ecclesiastics,  which  is  described  by  the 
concurrent  testimony  of  the  Heathen  historian  ^  and 
the  Christian  Jerome,  would  not  humbly  brook  the 
greater  popularity  of  these  severer  doctrines,  nor  pa- 
tiently submit  to  the  estrangement  of  some  of  their 
more  opulent  and  distinguished  proselytes,  particularly 
among  the  females.  Jerome  admits,  indeed,  with 
specious  but  doubtful  humility,  the  inferiority  of  the 
unordained  monk  to  the  ordained  priest.  The  clergy 
were  the  successors  of  the  apostles ;  their  lips  could 
make  the  body  of  Christ ;  they  had  the  keys  of  heaven, 
until  the  day  of  Judgment.  They  were  the  shepherds ; 
the  monks,  only  part  of  the  flock.  Yet  the  clergy,  no 
doubt,  had  the  sagacity  to  foresee  the  dangerous  rival, 

1  Epist.  xii.  p.  744.    Tillemont,  Vie  de  Jerome. 

2  Ammianus  Marcellinus.    Seejpostea. 


234  INFLUENCE  OVER  FEMALES.  Book  IIL 

as  to  influence  and  authority,  which  was  rising  up  in 
Christian  society.  The  great  object  of  contention  now 
was  the  command  over  the  high-born  and  wealthy  fe- 
influence      malcs  of  Romc.    Jcromc,  in  his  advice  to  the 

over  females  .  •  ^        -i 

of  Home,  clergy,  cautiously  warns  them  against  the  dan- 
ger of  female  intimacy.^  He,  however,  either  considered 
himself  secure,  or  under  some  peculiar  privilege,  or 
justified  by  the  prospect  of  greater  utility,  to  suspend 
his  laws  on  his  own  behalf.  He  became  a  kind  of 
confessor,  he  directed  the  sacred  studies,  he  overlooked 
the  religious  conduct  of  more  than  one  of  these  pious 
ladies.  The  ardor  and  vehemence  with  which  his 
ascetic  opinions  were  embraced,  and  the  more  than 
usually  familiar  intercourse  with  matrons  and  virgins 
of  rank,  may  perhaps  have  offended  the  pride,  if  not 
the  propriety,  of  Roman  manners.  The  more  temper- 
ate and  rational  of  the  clergy,  in  their  turn,  may  have 
thought  the  zeal  with  which  these  female  converts  of 
Jerome  were  prepared  to  follow  their  teacher  to  the 
Holy  Land,  by  no  means  a  safe  precedent ;  they  may 
have  taken  alarm  at  the  unusual  fervor  of  language 
with  which  female  ascetics  were  celebrated  as  united, 
by  the  nuptial  tie,  to  Christ,^  and  exhorted,  in  the 
glowing  imagery  of  the  Song  of  Solomon,  to  devote 
themselves  to  their  spiritual  spouse.  They  were  the 
brides   of  Christ:    Christ,   worshipped   by   angels   in 

1  Epist.  ad  Heliodorum,  p.  10. 

2  See  the  Epistle  ad  Eustochium.  The  whole  of  this  letter  is  a  singular 
union  of  religious  earnestness  and  what,  to  modern  feeling,  would  seem 
strange  indelicacy,  if  not  immodesty,  and  still  stranger  liberty  with  the 
language  of  Scripture.  He  seems  to  say  that  Eustochium  was  the  first  noble 
Roman  maiden  who  embraced  virginity :  "  Quas  .  .  .  prima  Romame  urbis 
virgo  nobilis  esse  coepisti."  He  says,  however,  of  Marcella,  "Nulla  eo  tem- 
pore nobilium  foeminarum  noverat  Romae  pi'opositum  monacharum,  nee 
audebat  propter  rei  novi^atem,  ignominiosum,  ut  tunc  putabatur,  et  vile  in 
populis,  nomen  assumere.    — Marcellse  Epitaph,  p.  780. 


Chap.  XI.  CHAKxVCTER  OF  ROMAN  FEMALES.  235 

heaven,  ought  to  have  angels  to  worship  him  on  earth.^ 
With  regard  to  Jerome  and  his  high-born  friends,  their 
suspicions  were,  doubtless,  unjust. 

It  is  singular,  indeed,  to  contrast  the  different  de- 
scriptions of  the  female  aristocracy  of  Rome  character  of 

T  p    ,  ,  .  Roman 

at  the  various  periods  of  her  history :  the  females. 
secluded  and  dignified  matrons,  the  Yolumnias  or 
Cornelias,  employed  in  household  duties,  and  educat- 
ing with  severe  discipline,  for  the  military  and  civil 
service  of  the  state,  her  future  consuls  and  dictators ; 
the  gorgeous  luxury,  the  almost  incredible  profligacy, 
of  the  later  days  of  the  republic  and  of  the  empire, 
the  Julias  and  Messalinas,  so  darkly  colored  by  the 
satirists  of  the  times ;  the  active  charity  and  the  stern 
austerities  of  the  Paulas  and  Eustochiums  of  the 
present  period.  It  was  not,  in  general,  the  severe  and 
lofty  Roman  matron  of  the  age  of  Roman  virtue  whom 
Christianity  induced  to  abandon  her  domestic  duties, 
and  that  highest  of  all  duties  to  her  country,  the 
bringing  up  of  noble  and  virtuous  citizens :  it  was 
the  soft  and  at  the  same  time  the  savage  female,  who 
united  the  incongruous,  but  too  frequently  reconciled, 
vices  of  sensuality  and  cruelty  ;  the  female,  whom  the 
facility  of  divorce,  if  she  abstained  from  less  lawful 
indulgence,  enabled  to  gratify  in  a  more  decent  man- 
ner her  inconstant  passions  ;  who  had  been  inured 
from  her  most  tender  age,  not  merely  to  theatrical 
shows  of  questionable  modesty,  but  to  the  bloody 
scenes  of  the  arena,  giving  the  signal  perhaps  with  her 
own  delicate  liand  for  the  mortal  blow  to  the  exhausted 
gladiator.     We  behold  with  wonder,  not  unmixed  with 

1  In  Jerome's  larger  interpretation  of  Solomon's  Song  (adv.  Jovin. 
p.  171)  is  a  ver}'  cm-ious  and  Avhimsieal  passage,  alluding  to  the  Saviour  as 
the  spouse.  There  is  one  sentence,  however,  in  the  letter  to  Eustochium,  so 
blasphemously  indecent  that  it  must  not  be  quoted  even  in  Latin.  —  p.  38. 


236  ASELLA  — PAULA.  Book  m. 

admiration,  women  of  the  same  race  and  city  either 
forswearing  from  their  earliest  youth  all  intercourse 
with  men,  or  preserving  the  state  of  widowhood  with 
irreproachable  dignity ;  devoting  their  wealth  to  the 
foundation  of  hospitals,  and  their  time  to  religious 
duties  and  active  benevolence.  These  monastic  sen- 
timents were  carried  to  that  excess  which  seemed 
inseparable  from  the  Roman  character.  At  twelve 
years  old,  the  young  Asella  devoted  herself  to  God ; 
from  that  time  she  had  never  conversed  with  a  man ; 
her  knees  were  as  hard  as  a  camel's,  by  constant  genu- 
flexion and  prayer.^  Paula,  the  fervent  dis- 
ciple of  Jerome,  after  devoting  the  wealth  of 
an  ancient  and  opulent  house  to  charitable  uses,^  to 
the  impoverishment  of  her  own  children,  deserted  her 
family.  Her  infant  son  and  her  marriageable  daughter 
watched,  with  entreating  looks,  her  departure ;  she 
did  not  even  turn  her  head  away  to  hide  her  maternal 
tears,  but  lifted  up  her  unmoistened  eyes  to  heaven, 
and  continued  her  pilgrimage  to  the  Holy  Land. 
Jerome  celebrates  this  sacrifice  of  the  holiest  charities 
of  life  as  the  height  of  female  religious  heroism.^ 

1  Hieronym.  Epist.  xxi. 

2  Jerome  thus  describes  the  charity  of  Paula:  "  Quid  ego  referam,  amplae 
et  nobilis  domus,  et  quondam  opulentissimaB,  omnes  ptene  divitias  in  pauperes 
erogatas.  Quid  in  cunctos  clemeutissimum  animum,  et  bonitatem  etiam  in 
eos  quos  nunquam  viderat,  evagantem.  Quis  inopum  moriens,  non  illius 
vestimentis  obvolutus  estV  Quis  clinicorum  non  ejus  facultatibus  sustentatus 
est?  Quos  curiosissime  tota  urbe  perquirens,  damnum  putabat,  si  quis 
debilis  et  esuriens  cibo  sustentaretur  alterius.  Sjjoiiabat  Jilios^  et  inter  objur- 
gantes  propinquos,  majorem  se  eis  haereditatem,  Christi  misericordiam  dimit- 
tere  loquebatur." — Epitaph.  Paulse,  p.  671.  At  her  death,  Jerome  relates, 
with  great  pride,  that  she  did  not  leave  a  penny  to  her  daughter,  but  a  load 
of  debts  (magnum  ass  alienum). 

3  It  is  a  passage  of  considerable  beauty :  "  Descendit  ad  portum,  fratre, 
cognatis,  affinibus,  et  (quod  his  majus  est)  liberis  prosequentibus,  et  clemen- 
tissimam  matrem  pietate  vincere  cupientibus.  Jam  carbasa  tendebantur,  et 
remorum  ductu  navis  in  altum  protrahebatur.     Parvus  Toxotius  supplices 


Chap.  XI.  CONTROVERSIES  OF  JEROME.  237 

The  vehement  and  haughty  temper  of  Jerome  was 
not  softened  by  his  monastic  austerities,  nor  controversies 
humbled  by  the  severe  proscription  of  the  °^'^^^^^^- 
gentler  affections.  His  life,  in  the  capital  and  in  the 
desert,  was  one  long  warfare.  After  the  death  of  his 
friend  and  protector,  Damasus,  the  growing  hostility 
of  the  clergy,  notwithstanding  the  attachment  of  his 
disciples,  rendered  his  residence  in  Rome  disagreeable. 
Nor  was  the  peace  of  the  monastic  life  his  reward  for 
his  zealous  exertions  in  its  cause.  He  re-  Retreat  to 
tired  to  Palestine,  where  he  passed  the  rest  ^'^^"'^«- 
of  his  days  in  religious  studies,  and  in  polemic  dis- 
putes. Wherever  any  dissentient  from  the  doctrine  or 
the  practice  of  the  dominant  Christianity  ventured  to 
express  his  opinions,  Jerome  launched  the  thunders 
of  his  interdict  from  his  cell  at  Bethlehem.  No  one 
was  more  perpetually  involved  in  controversy,  or 
opposed  with  greater  rancor  of  personal  hostility, 
than  this  earnest  advocate  of  unworldly  religious 
seclusion.  He  was  engaged  in  a  vehement  dispute 
with  St.  Augustine  on  the  difference  between  St.  Peter 
and  St.  Paul.  But  his  repose  was  most  imbittered 
by  the  acrimonious  and  obstinate  contest  with  Rufi- 
nus,  which  was  rather  a  personal  than  a  polemic 
strife. 

manus  tendebat  in  littora.  Rufina,  jam  nubilis,  ut  suas  expectaret  nuptias, 
tacens  fletibus  obsecrabat,  et  tainen  ilia  siccos  ad  coeluin  oculos,  pietatem  in 
filios,  pietate  in  Deum  superans,  nesciebat  se  malrem  ut  Christi  probaret 
ancillam.  .  .  .  Hoc  contra  jura  naturae  plena  fides  patiebatur,  imo  gaudens 
animus  appetebat. — Epitaph.  Paulse,  672. 
This  was  her  epitaph :  — 

Aspicis  angustum  precissi  rupe  sepulcrum  ? 
Hospitium  Paulje  est,  coelestia  regna  tenentis 
Fratrem,  cognates,  Romam,  patriamque  relinquena, 
Divitias,  sobolem,  Bethlehemite  conditur  antro. 
Hie  prgesepe  tuum,  Ohriste,  atque  hie  mystica  Magi 
Munera  portantes,  hominique,  Deoque  dedere- 


238  JOYINIAN  AND  VIGILANTIUS.  Book  III. 

In  one  controversy,  Christendom  acknowledged  and 
jovinianand  hailed  him  as  her  champion.  Jovinian  and 
viguantius.  yjgiiantius  are  involved  in  the  dark  list  of 
heretics  ;  but  their  error  appears  to  have  been  that 
of  unwisely  attempting  to  stem  the  current  of  popu- 
lar Christian  opinion,  rather  than  any  departure  from 
the  important  doctrines  of  Christianity.  They  were 
premature  Protestants ;  they  endeavored,  with  vain 
and  iR-timed  efforts,  to  arrest  the  encroaching  spirit 
of  Monachism,  which  had  now  enslaved  the  whole  of 
Christianity ;  ^  they  questioned  the  superior  merit 
of  celibacy ;  they  protested  against  the  growing  wor- 
ship of  relics. 2  Their  effect  upon  the  dominant  senti- 
ment of  the  times  may  be  estimated  by  the  language 
of  wrath,  bitterness,  contempt,  and  abhorrence,  with 
which  Jerome  assails  these  bold  men,  who  thus  pre- 
sumed to  encounter  the  spirit  of  their  age.  The  four 
points  of  Jovinian's  heresy  were,  —  1st,  that  virgins 
had  no  higher  merit,  unless  superior  in  their  good 
works,  than  widows  and  married  women ;  2d,  that 
there  was  no  distinction  of  meats ;  3d,  that  those 
who  had  been  baptized  in  full  faith  would  not  be 
overcome  by  the  Devil;  and,  4th,  that  those  who  had 
preserved  the  grace  of  baptism  would  meet  with  an 
equal  reward  in  heaven.  This  last  clause  was  perhaps 
a  corollary  from  the  first,  as  the  panegyrists  of  virgin- 

1  Hieronym.  adv.  Vigilantium,  p.  281. 

2  The  observation  of  Fleury  shows  how  mistuned  was  the  attempt  of 
Vigilantius  to  return  to  the  simpler  Christianity  of  former  days:  "On  ne 
voit  pas  que  I'hdr^sie  (de  Vigilance),  ait  eu  de  suite;  ni  qu'on  ait  eu  besoin 
d'aucun  concile  pour  la  condamner  tant  elle  etoit  contraire  a  la  tradition  de 
I'Eglise  Univeroelle." — torn.  v.  p.  278. 

I  have  purposely,  lest  I  should  overstrain  the  Protestantism  of  these 
remarkable  men,  taken  this  view  of  their  tenets  from  Fleury,  perhaps  the 
fairest  and  most  dispassionate  writer  of  his  Church.  —  torn.  iv.  p.  602 ;  torn. 
V.  p.  275. 


Chap.  XI.  JOYIXIAN  AXD  VIGILANTIUS.  239 

ity  uniformly  claimed  a  higher  place  in  heaven  for  the 
immaculate  than  for  those  who  had  been  polluted  by 
marriage.  To  those  doctrines  Vigilantius  added,  if 
possible,  more  hated  tenets.  He  condemned  the  re- 
spect paid  to  the  martyrs  and  their  relics ;  he  ques- 
tioned the  miracles  performed  at  their  tombs ;  he 
condemned  the  lighting  lamps  before  them,  as  a  Pagan 
superstition ;  he  rejected  the  intercession  of  the  saints  ; 
he  blamed  the  custom  of  sending  alms  to  Jerusalem, 
and  the  selling  all  property  to  give  it  to  the  poor ;  he 
asserted  that  it  was  better  to  keep  it,  and  distribute  its 
revenues  in  charity  ;  he  protested  against  the  whole 
monastic  life,  as  interfering  with  the  duty  of  a  Chris- 
tian to  his  neighbor.  These  doctrines  were  not  with- 
out their  followers ;  the  resentment  of  Jerome  was 
imbittered  by  their  effect  on  some  of  the  noble  ladies 
of  Rome,  who  began  to  fall  off  to  marriage.  Even 
some  bishops  embraced  the  doctrines  of  Vigilantius, 
and,  asserting  that  the  high  professions  of  continence 
led  the  way  to  debauchery,  refused  to  ordain  unmar- 
ried deacons. 

Tlie  tone  of  Jerome's  indignant  writings  against 
those  new  heretics  is  that  of  a  man  suddenly  arrested 
in  his  triumphant  career  by  some  utterly  unexpected 
opposition ;  his  resentment  at  being  thus  crossed  is 
mingled  with  a  kind  of  wonder  that  men  should  exist 
who  could  entertain  such  strange  and  daring  tenets. 
The  length,  it  might  be  said  the  prolixity,  to  which  he 
draws  out  his  answer  to  Jovinian,  seems  rather  the 
outpouring  of  his  wrath  and  his  learning,  than  as  if  he 
considered  it  necessary  to  refute  such  obvious  errors. 
Throughout  it  is  the  master  condescending  to  teach, 
not  the  adversary  to  argue.  He  fairly  overwhelms 
him  with  a  mass  of  Scripture,  and  of  classical  learning; 


240  JOVINIAN  AND  VIGILANTIUS.  Book  HI. 

at  one  time  he  pours  out  a  flood  of  allegorical  interpre- 
tations of  the  Scripture ;  he  then  confounds  him  with 
a  clever  passage  from  Theophrastus  on  the  miseries  of 
marriage.  Even  the  friends  of  Jerome,  the  zealous 
Pammachius  himself,  were  offended  by  the  fierceness 
of  his  first  invective  against  Jovinian,^  and  his  con- 
temptuous disparagement  of  marriage.  The  injustice 
of  his  personal  charges  is  shown,  and  the  charges 
refuted,  by  the  more  temperate  statements  of  Augustine, 
and  by  his  own  admissions.^  He  was  obliged,  in  his 
apology,  to  mitigate  his  vehemence,  and  reluctantly 
to  fall  into  a  milder  strain  ;  but  even  the  Apology  has 
something  of  the  severe  and  contemptuous  tone  of  an 
orator  who  is  speaking  on  the  popular  side,  with  his 
audience  already  in  his  favor. 

But  his  language  to  Jovinian  is  sober,  dispassionate, 

and  argumentative,  in  comparison  with  that  to  Vigi- 

lantius.     He  describes  all  the  monsters  ever  invented 

by  poetic  imagination,  —  the  centaurs,  the  leviathan, 

the  Nemean  lion,  Cacus,  Geryon.     Gaul,  by 

Vigilantius.  •        o  i       n  i 

her  one  monster,  Vigilantms,^  had  surpassed 

1  "  Indignamini  mihi,  quod  Jovinianum  non  docuerim,  sed  vicerim.  Imo 
indignantur  mihi  qui  ilium  anathematizatum  dolent." — Apolog.  p.  236. 

2  Jerome  admits  that  Jovinian  did  not  assert  the  privilege  which  he  vindi- 
cated; he  remained  a  monk,  though  Jerome  highly  colors  his  luxurious 
habits.  After  his  coarse  tunic  and  hare  feet,  and  food  of  bread  and  water,  he 
has  betaken  himself  to  white  garments,  sweetened  wine,  and  highly  dressed 
meats :  to  the  sauces  of  an  Apicius  or  a  Paxamus,  to  baths,  and  shampooings 
(fricticuke,  —  the  Benedictines  translate  this  fritter-shops),  and  cooks'  shops, 
it  is  manifest  that  he  prefers  earth  to  heaven,  vice  to  virtue,  his  belly  to 
Christ,  and  thinks  his  rubicund  color  (purpuram  coloris  ejus)  the  kingdom 
of  heaven.  Yet  this  handsome,  this  corpulent,  smooth  monk  always  goes  in 
white  like  a  bridegroom :  let  him  marr}-^  a  wife  to  prove  the  equal  value  of 
virginity  and  marriage ;  but  if  he  will  not  take  a  wife,  though  he  is  against 
us  in  his  words,  his  actions  are  for  us.  He  afterwards  says,  "  Hie  Komanae 
ecclesiae  auctoritate  damnatus  inter  fluviales  aves,  et  cai'nes  suillas,  non  tarn 
emisit  animam  quam  eructavit."  —  p.  183. 

8  His  brief  sketch  of  the  enormities  of  Vigilantius  is  as  follows:  "  <iui 


CH.VP.  XI.  YIGILANTIUS.  241 

all  the  pernicious  and  portentous  horrors  of  other  re- 
gions. "  Why  do  I  fly  to  the  desert  ?  That  I  may 
not  see  or  hear  thee ;  that  I  may  no  longer  be 
moved  by  thy  madness,  nor  be  provoked  to  war  by 
thee  ;  lest  the  eye  of  a  harlot  should  captivate  me,  and 
a  beautiful  form  seduce  me  to  unlawful  love."  But 
his  great  and  conclusive  argument  in  favor  of  reverence 
for  the  dust  of  martyrs  (that  little  diist  which,  covered 
with  a  precious  veil,  Yigilantius  presumed  to  think  but 
dust)  is  universal  authority.  "  Was  the  emperor  Con- 
stantino sacrilegious,  who  transported  the  relics  of 
Andrew,  Luke,  and  Timothy  to  Constantinople,  at 
whose  presence  the  devils  (such  devils  as  inhabit  the 
wretched  Vigilantius)  roar  and  are  confounded  ?  or 
the  emperor  Arcadius,  who  translated  the  bones  of  the 
holy  Samuel  to  Thrace  ?  Are  all  the  bishops  sacri- 
legious who  enshrined  these  precious  remains  in  silk, 
as  a  vessel  of  gold  ;  and  all  the  people  who  met  them, 
and  received  them  as  it  were  the  living  prophet  ?  Is 
the  Bishop  of  Rome,  who  offers  sacrifice  on  the  altar 
under  which  are  the  venerable  bones  (the  vile  dust, 
would  Vigilantius  say  ?)  of  Peter  and  Paul ;  and  not 
the  bishop  of  one  city  alone,  but  the  bishops  of  all  the 
cities  in  the  world  who  reverence  these  relics,  around 
which  the  souls  of  the  martyrs  are  constantly  hover- 
ing to  hear  the  prayers  of  the  supplicant  ?  " 

The  great  work  of  Jerome,  the  authoritative  Latin 
version  of  the  Scriptures,  will  demand  our  attention, 
as  one  of  the  primary  elements  of  Christian  literature ; 
a  subject  which  must  form  one  most  important  branch 

immundo  spiritu  pugnat  contra  Christi  spiritum,  et  martyrum  negat  sepulcra 
esse  veneranda;  damnaudas  dicit  esse  vigilias;  nunquam  nisi  in  Pascha 
Alleluia  cantandnm:  continentiam  hseresim,  pudicitiam  libidinis  semiua- 
rium." 

VOL.   III.  16 


242  JEROME.  Book  III. 

of  our  inquiry  into  tlie  extent  and  nature  of  the 
general  revolution  in  the  history  of  mankind,  brought 
about  by  the  complete  establishment  of  Christianity .^ 

1  Compare  Latin  Christianity',  book  i.  ch.  2.    Note  on  Jerome,  especially 
the  passages  about  the  destruction  of  Rome  by  Alaric,  vol.  1.  p.  101. 


BOOK   IV. 


CHAPTER   I. 

The  Roman  Empire  under  Christianity. 

The  period  is  now  arrived  when  we  may  survey  the 
total  change  in  the  habits  and  manners,  as  General 

.  .  T  .     .  „     survey  of 

well  as  m  the  sentiments  and  opinions,  oi    the  change 

^  '         effected  by- 

mankind,  effected  by  the  dominance  of  the  Christianity. 

new  faith.  Christianity  is  now  the  mistress  of  the 
Roman  world ;  on  every  side  the  struggles  of  Pagan- 
ism become  more  feeble ;  it  seems  resigned  to  its  fate, 
or  rather  only  hopes,  by  a  feigned  allegiance  and  a 
simulation  of  the  forms  and  language  of  Christianity, 
to  be  permitted  to  drag  on  a  precarious  and  inglorious 
existence.  The  Christians  are  now  no  longer  a  sepa- 
rate people,  founding  and  maintaining  their  small  inde- 
pendent republics,  fenced  in  by  marked  peculiarities 
of  habits  and  manners  from  the  rest  of  society :  they 
have  become,  to  all  outward  appearance,  the  people  ;  the 
general  manners  of  the  world  may  be  contemplated  as 
the  manners  of  Christendom.  The  monks,  and  in 
some  respects  the  clergy,  have,  as  it  were,  taken  the 
place  of  the  Christians  as  a  separate  and  distinct  body 
of  men  ;  the  latter  in  a  great  degree,  the  former  alto- 
gether, differing  from  the  prevalent  usages  in  their 
modes  of  life,  and  abstaining  from  the  common  pursuits 

[243] 


244  CHRISTIAN  WRITERS.  Bo.  ic  IV. 

and  avocations  of  society.  The  Christian  writers, 
therefore,  become  our  leading,  almost  our  only,  authori- 
ties for  the  general  habits  and  manners  of  mankind 
Sources  of      (for    the    notice    of    such    matters    in    the 

information.      "^  . 

Heathen  writers  are  few  and  casual),  except 

Theodosian  -^ '  ^ 

code.  the  Theodosian   code.     This,   indeed,   is   of 

great  value  as  a  record  of  manners  as  well  as  a 
history  of  legislation ;  for  that  which  demands  the 
prohibition  of  the  law,  or  is  in  any  way  of  sufficient 
importance  to  require  the  notice  of  the  legislature, 
may  be  considered  as  a  prevalent  custom  :  particularly 
as  the  Theodosian  code  is  not  a  system  of  abstract 
and  general  law,  but  the  register  of  the  successive 
edicts  of  the  emperors,  who  were  continually  supplying, 
by  their  arbitrary  acts,  the  deficiencies  of  the  existing 
statutes,  or,  as  new  cases  arose,  adapting  those  statutes 
to  temporary  exigencies. 

But  the  Christian  preachers  are  the  great  painters 
Christian  ^^  Rouiau  manucrs  :  Chrysostom  of  the  East, 
writers.  morc  particularly  of  Constantinople ;  Jerome, 
and,  though  much  less  copiously,  Ambrose  and  Augus- 
tine, of  Roman  Christendom.  Considerable  allowance 
must,  of  course,  be  made  in  all  these  statements  for 
oratorical  vehemence ;  much  more  for  the  ascetic 
habits  of  the  writers,  particularly  of  Chrysostom,  wlio 
maintained,  and  would  have  exacted,  the  rigid 
austerity  of  the  desert  in  the  midst  of  a  luxurious 
capital.  Nor  must  the  general  morality  of  the  times 
be  estimated  from  their  writings  without  considerable 
discretion.  It  is  the  office  of  the  preacher,  though 
with  a  different  design,  yet  with  something  of  the 
manner  of  the  satirist,  to  select  the  vices  of  mankind 
for  his  animadversion,  and  to  dwell  with  far  less  force 
on  the  silent  and  unpretending  virtues.     There  might 


Chap.  I.  SLAVERY.  245 

be,  and  probably  was,  an  under-cnrrent  of  quiet  Chris- 
tian piety  and  gentleness  and  domestic  happiness, 
which  would  not  arrest  the  notice  of  the  preacher  who 
was  denouncing  the  common  pride  and  luxury,  or,  if 
kindling  into  accents  of  praise,  was  enlarging  on  the 
austere  self-denial  of  the  anchorite,  or  the  more  shining 
virtues  of  the  saint. 

Christianity  disturbed  not  the  actual  relations  of 
society ;  it  interfered  in  no  way  with  the  existing 
gradations  of  rank.  Though,  as  we  shall  see,  it 
introduced  a  new  order  of  functionaries,  —  what  may 
be  considered,  from  the  estimation  in  which  they  were 
held,  a  new  aristocracy,  —  it  left  all  the  old  official 
dignitaries  in  possession  of  their  distinctions.  With 
the  ffreat  vital  distinction  between  the  free- 

°  Slavery. 

man  and  the  slave,  as  yet  it  made  no  differ- 
ence.^ It  broke  down  none  of  the  barriers  which 
separated  this  race  of  men  from  the  common  rights  of 
human  kind  ;  and  in  no  degree  legally  brought  up  this 
Pariah  caste  of  antiquity  to  the  common  level  of  the 
human  race. 

In  the  new  relation  established  between  mankind 
and  the  Supreme  Being,  the  slave  was  fully  participant : 
he  shared  in  the  redemption  through  Christ ;  he  might 
receive  all  the  spiritual  blessings,  and  enjoy  all  the 
immortalizing  hopes,  of  the  believer;  he  might  be 
dismissed  from  his  death-bed  to  heaven  by  the  absolv- 
ing voice  of  the  priest ;  and,  besides  this  inestimable 
consolation  in  misery  and  degradation,  this  religious 
equality,  at  least  with  the  religious  part  of  the  com- 
munity, could  not  fail  to  elevate  his  condition,  and  to 
strengthen  that  claim  to  the  sympathies  of  mankind 
which  was   enforced   by   Christian    humanity.      The 

1  The  laws  of  Justinian,  it  must  be  remembered,  are  beyond  this  period. 


246  SLAVERY.  Book  IV. 

axiom  of  Clement  of  Alexandria,  that,  by  the  common 
law  of  Christian  charity,  we  were  to  act  to  them  as  we 
would  be  acted  by,  because  they  were  men,^  though 
perhaps  it  might  have  been  uttered  with  equal  strength 
of  language  by  some  of  the  better  philosophers,  spoke 
with  far  more  general  acceptance  to  the  human  heart. 
The  manumission,  which  was  permitted  by  Con- 
stantino to  take  place  in  the  Church,  must  likewise 
have  tended  indirectly  to  connect  freedom  with  Chris- 
tianity .^ 

Still,  down  to  the  time  of  Justinian,  the  inexorable 
law,  which,  as  to  their  treatment,  had  already  been 
wisely  tempered  by  the  Heathen  emperors,  as  to  their 
rights  pronounced  the  same  harsh  and  imperious  sen- 
tence. It  beheld  them  as  an  inferior  class  of  human 
beings ;  their  life  was  placed  but  partially  under  the 
protection  of  the  law.  If  they  died  under  a  punish- 
ment of  extraordinary  cruelty,  the  master  was  guilty 
of  homicide ;  if  under  more  moderate  application  of 
the  scourge,  or  any  other  infliction,  the  master  was 
not  accountable  for  their  death. ^  While  it  refused  to 
protect,  the  law  inflicted  on  the  slave  punishments 
disproportionate  to  those  of  the  freeman.  If  he 
accused  his  master  for  any  crime,  except  high  treason, 
he  was  to  be  burned  ;  *  if  free  women  married  slaves, 
they  sank  to  the  abject  state  of  their  husbands,  and 
forfeited  their  rights  as  free  women ;  ^  if  a  free 
woman  intrigued  with  a  slave,  she  was  capitally 
punished,  the  slave  was  burned.^ 

The  possession  of  slaves  was  in  no  degree  limited  by 

1  Clemens  Alex.  Paedagog.  iii.  12.          2  gee  Blair  on  Slavery,  p.  288. 

8  Cod.  Theodos.  ix.  12,  1.         4  ibid.  ix.  6,  2.         5  ibid.  iv.  9,  1,  2,  3. 

6  Ibid.  ix.  11,  1.  Since  the  publication  of  this  book  has  appeared  the 
best  and  most  comprehensive  work  on  that  subject,  —  Wallon's  Histoire  de 
I'Esclavage  dansl'Antiquite. 


Chap.  I.  MANNERS  OF  THE  COURT.  247 

law.  it  was  condemned  as  a  mark  of  inordinate  lux- 
ury, but  by  no  means  as  in  itself  contrary  to  Christian 
justice  or  equity.^ 

On  the  pomp  and  magnificence  of  the  court,  Chris- 
tianity either  did  not  aspire,  or  despaired  of  Manners  of 
enforcing  moderation  or  respect  for  the  com-  *^^  ^°^'"*- 
mon  dignity  of  mankind.  The  manners  of  the  East, 
as  the  emperor  took  up  his  residence  in  Constantinople, 
were  too  strong  for  the  religion.  With  the  first  Chris- 
tian emperor  commenced  that  Oriental  ceremonial 
which  it  might  almost  seem,  that,  rebuked  by  the  old 
liberties  of  Rome,  the  imperial  despot  would  not 
assume  till  he  had  founded  another  capital ;  or  at 
least,  if  the  first  groundwork  of  this  Eastern  pomp 
was  laid  by  Diocletian,  Rome  had  already  been  de- 
serted, and  was  not  insulted  by  the  open  degradation 
of  the  first  men  in  the  empire  to  the  language,  attitudes, 
and  titles  of  servitude. 

The  eunuchs,  who,  however  admitted  in  solitary  in- 
stances to  the  confidence  or  favor  of  the  Government 
earlier  emperors,  had  never  formed  a  party  eunuchs. 
or  handed  down  to  each  other  the  successive  adminis- 
trations, now  ruled  in  almost  uncontested  sovereignty ; 
and,  except  in  some  rare  instances,  seemed  determined 
not  to  incur,  without  deserving,  the  antipathy  and 
contempt  of  mankind.  The  luxury  and  prodigality 
of  the  court  equalled  its  pomp  and  its  servility.  The 
parsimonious  reformation  introduced  by  Julian  may  ex- 
aggerate, in  its  contemptuous  expressions,  the  thousand 
cooks,  the  thousand  barbers,  and  more  than  a  thousand 
cup-bearers,   with   the  host   of  eunuchs   and   drones 

1  Clemens  Alex.  Psedagog.  iii.  12.  It  is  curious  to  compare  this  passage 
of  Clement  with  the  beautiful  essay  of  Seneca.  See  likewise  Chrysostom, 
Himostpasdm.    Some  had  two  or  three  thousand.  —  t.  vii.  p.  633. 


248  THE  EMPEROR.  Book  IV. 

of  every  description  who  lived  at  the  charge  of  the 
emperor  Coiistantius.^  The  character  of  Theodosius 
gave  an  imposing  dignity  to  his  resumption  of  that 
magnificence,  of  which  Julian,  not  without  affectation, 
had  displayed  his  disdain.  The  Heathen -writers,  per- 
haps with  the  design  of  contrasting  Theodosius  with 
the  severer  Julian,  who  are  the  representatives,  or  at 
least  each  the  pride,  of  the  opposing  parties,  describe 
the  Christian  as  immoderately  indulging  in  the  pleas- 
Theem-  ^^®^  ^^  ^^^^  table,  and  of  re-enlisting  in  the 
peror.  imperial  service  a  countless  multitude  of 
cooks  and  other  attendants  on  the  splendor  and  indul- 
gence of  the  court.2 

That  which  in  Theodosius  was  the  relaxation  or  the 
reward  for  military  services,  and  the  cares  and  agita- 
tions of  an  active  administration,  de2;enerated  with  his 
feeble  sons  into  indolent  and  eifeminate  luxury.  The 
head  of  the  empire  became  a  secluded  Asiatic  despot. 
When,  on  rare  occasions,  Arcadius  condescended  to 
reveal  to  the  public  the  majesty  of  the  sovereign,  he 
was  preceded  by  a  vast  multitude  of  attendants,  dukes, 
tribunes,  civil  and  military  officers,  their  horses  glit- 
tering with  golden  ornaments,  with  shields  of  gold 
set  with  precious  stones,  and  golden  lances.  They 
proclaimed  the  coming  of  the  emperor,  and  commanded 
the  ignoble  crowd  to  clear  the  streets  before  him.^ 
The  emperor  stood  or  reclined  on  a  gorgeous  chariot, 
surrounded  by  his  immediate  attendants,  distinguished 
by  shields  with  golden  bosses  set  round  with  golden  eyes, 
and  drawn  by  white  mules  with  gilded  trappings  ;  the 

1  Libanius,  Epitaph.  Julian,  p.  565.  2  Zosimus,  iv.  28. 

3  Mo'ntfaucon,  in  an  essay  in  the  last  volume  of  the  works  of  Chn^sostom, 
and  in  the  twelfth  volume  of  the  Memoirs  of  the  Academj'-  of  Inscriptions, 
and  Miiller,  in  his  treatise  De  Genio,  Moribus,  et  Luxu  M\n  Theodosiani,  have 
collected  the  principal  features  of  this  picture,  chiefly  from  Chrysostom. 


Chap.  I.  COURT-SPLENDOR.  249 

chariot  was  set  with  precious  stones  ;  and  golden  fans 
vibrated  with  the  movement,  and  cooled  the  air.  The 
multitude  contemplated  at  a  distance  the  snow-white 
cushions,  the  silken  carpets  with  dragons  inwoven 
upon  them  in  rich  colors.  Those  who  were  fortunate 
enough  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  emperor  beheld  his 
ears  loaded  with  golden  rings,  his  arms  with  golden 
chains,  his  diadem  set  with  gems  of  all  hues,  his  pur- 
ple robes,  which  with  the  diadem  were  reserved  for 
the  emperor,  in  all  their  sutures  embroidered  with 
precious  stones.  The  wondering  people,  on  their 
return  to  their  homes,  could  talk  of  nothing  but  the 
splendor  of  the  spectacle,  the  robes,  the  mules,  the  car- 
pets, the  size  and  splendor  of  the  jewels.  On  his 
return  to  the  palace,  the  emperor  walked  on  gold ; 
ships  were  employed  with  the  express  purpose  of  bring- 
ing gold  dust^  from  remote  provinces,  which  was 
strewn  by  the  officious  care  of  a  host  of  attendants, 
so  that  the  emperor  rarely  set  his  foot  on  the  bare 
pavement. 

The  official  aristocracy,  which  had  succeeded  to  the 
hereditary  patriciate  of  Rome,  reflected  in  Tbearis- 
more  moderate  splendor,  and  less  unap-  ^^^^y- 
proachable  seclusion,  the  manners  of  the  court.  The 
chief  civil  offices  were  filled  by  men  of  ignoble  birth, 
often  eunuchs.  These,  by  the  prodigal  display  of  their 
ill-acquired  wealth,  insulted  the  people,  who  admired, 
envied,  and  hated  their  arrogant  state.  The  military 
officers,  in  the  splendor  of  their  trappings  and  accou- 
trements, vied  with  the  gorgeousness  of  the  court- 
favorites  ;  and  even  the  barbarians,  who  began  to  force 
their  way  by  their  valor  to  these  posts,  in  the  capital 
caught  the  infection  of  luxviry  and  pomp.     As  in  all 

1  XpvaiTiv.     See  Miiller,  p.  10. 


250  VICES  OF  EMPERORS.  Book  IV. 

despotisms,  especially  in  the  East,  there  was  a  rapid 
rise  and  fall  of  unworthy  favorites,  whose  vices,  exac- 
tions, and  oppressions  were  unsparingly  laid  open  by 
hostile  writers,  directly  they  had  lost  the  protecting 
favor  of  the  court.  Men  then  found  out  that  the 
enormous  wealth,  the  splendor,  the  voluptuousness, 
in  which  an  Eutropius  or  a  Rufinus  had  indulged,  had 
been  obtained  by  the  sale  of  appointments,  by  vast 
bribes  from  provincial  governors,  by  confiscations, 
and  every  abuse  of  inordinate  power .^ 

Christianity  had  not  the  power  to  elevate  despotism 
into  a  wise  and  beneficent  rule,  or  to  dignify  its  in- 
separable consequence,  court  favoritism.  Yet  after 
all,  feeble  and  contemptible  as  are  many  of  the  Chris- 
tian emperors,  pusillanimous  even  in  their  vices ; 
odious  as  was  the  tyranny  of  their  ministers,  —  they 
may  bear  no  unfavorable  comparison  with  the  Heathen 
emperors  of  Rome.  Human  nature  is  not  so  out- 
raged, our  belief  in  the  possible  depravity  of  man  is 
not  so  severely  tried,  as  by  the  monstrous  vices  and 
cruelties  of  a  Tiberius,  a  Caligula,  or  a  Nero.  Theo- 
dora even,  if  we  credit  the  malignant  satire  of 
Procopius,  maintained  some  decency  upon  the  throne. 
The  superstitions  of  the  emperors  debased  Chris- 
tianity ;  the  Christian  bishop  was  degraded  by  being- 
obliged  at  times  to  owe  his  promotion  to  an  eunuch 

*  "  Hie  Asiam  villa  pactus  regit ;  ille  redemit 
Conjugis  omatu  Syriam  ;  dolet  ille  paterni 
Bithynos  mutiisse  domo.     Suffixa  patenti 
Vestibulo  pretiis  distinguit  regula  geutes." 

Claud,  in  Eutrop.  i.  199. 
"...  clientes 
Tallit,  et  ambitos  k  principe  vendit  houores. 


Congestae  cumulantur  opes,  orbisque  rapinas 
Accipit  una  domus.    Populi  servire  coacti 
Plenaque  private  succumbunt  oppida  regno." 

In  Rufin.  i.  179-193. 


chai'.i.  aeistocratical  life.  251 

or  a  favorite ;  yet  even  the  most  servile  and  intriguing 
of  the  hierarchy  could  not  be  entirely  forgetful  of 
their  high  mission ;  there  was  still  a  kind  of  moral 
repugnance,  inseparable  from  the  character  they  bore, 
which  kept  them  above  the  general  debasement. 

The  aristocratical  life,  at  this  period,  seems  to  have 
been  characterized  by  gorgeous  magnificence  Manners  of 
without  grandeur,  inordinate  luxury  without  racy. 
refinemeiit,  the  pomp  and  prodigality  of  a  high  state 
of  civilization  with  none  of  its  ennobling  or  humaniz- 
ing effects.  The  walls  of  the  palaces  were  lined  with 
marbles  of  all  colors,  crowded  with  statues  of  inferior 
workmanship,  mosaics,  of  which  the  merit  consisted 
in  the  arrangement  of  the  stones ;  the  cost,  rather 
than  the  beauty  or  elegance,  was  the  test  of  excel- 
lence, and  the  object  of  admiration.  The  nobles  were 
surrounded  with  hosts  of  parasites  or  servants.  "  You 
reckon  up,"  Chrysostom  thus  addresses  a  patrician, 
"  so  many  acres  of  land,  ten  or  twenty  palaces,  as 
many  baths,  a  thousand  or  two  thousand  slaves, 
chariots  plated  with  silver  or  overlaid  with  gold."^ 

Their  banquets  were  merely  sumptuous,  without 
social  grace  or  elegance.  The  dress  of  the 
females,  the  fondness  for  false  hair,  some-  ' 
times  wrought  up  to  an  enormous  height,  and  especially 
affecting  the  golden  dye,  and  for  paint,  from  which 
irresistible  propensities  they  were  not  to  be  estranged 
even  by  religion,  excite  the  stern  animadversion  of 
the  ascetic  Christian  teacher.  "  What  business  have 
rouge  and  paint  on  a  Christian  cheek  ?  Who  can 
weep  for  her  sins  when  her  tears  wash  her  face  bare 
and  mark  furrows  on  her  skin  ?  With  what  trust  can 
faces  be  lifted  up  towards  heaven,  which  the  Maker 

1  T.  vu.  p.  533. 


252  DECLINE  OF  ARl.  Book  IV 

cannot  recognize  as  his  own  workmanship  ?  "  ^  Their 
necks,  heads,  arms,  and  fingers,  were  loaded  with 
golden  chains  and  rings ;  their  persons  breathed 
precious  odors,  their  dresses  were  of  gold  stuff  and 
silk ;  and  in  this  attire  they  ventured  to  enter  the 
church.  Some  of  the  wealthier  Christian  matrons 
gave  a  religious  air  to  their  vanity :  while  the  more 
profane  wore  their  thin  silken  dresses  embroidered 
with  hunting  pieces,  wild  beasts,  or  any  other  fanciful 
device,  the  more  pious  had  the  miracles  of  Christ,  the 
marriage  in  Cana  of  Galilee,  or  the  paralytic  carrying 
his  bed.  In  vain  the  preachers  urged  that  it  would 
be  better  to  emulate  these  acts  of  charity  and  love, 
than  to  wear  them  on  their  garments  .^ 

It  might  indeed  be  supposed,  that  Christianity,  by 
the  extinction  of  that  feeling  for  the  beauty,  grandeur, 
and  harmony  of  outward  form,  which  was  a  part  of 
the  religion  of  Greece,  and  was  enforced  by  her  purer 
and  loftier  philosophy,  may  have  contributed  to  this 
total  depravation  of  the  taste.  Those  who  had  lost 
the  finer  feeling  for  the  pure  and  noble  in  art  and  in 
social  life,  would  throw  themselves  into  the  gorgeous, 
the  sumptuous,  and  the  extravagant.  But  it  was 
rather  the  Roman  character  than  the  influence  of 
Christianity  which  was  thus  fatal  to  the  refinements 
of  life.  The  degeneracy  of  taste  was  almost  complete 
before  the  predominance  of  the  new  religion.  The 
manners  of  ancient  Rome  had  descended  from  the 
earlier  empire,^  and  the  manners  of  Constantinople 

1  Hieronym.  Epist.  54.     Compare  Epist.  19,  vol.  i.  p.  284. 

2  Miiller,  p.  112.  There  are  several  statutes  prohibiting  the  use  of  gold 
brocade  or  dresses  of  silk  in  the  Theodosian  Code.  —  x.  tit.  20.  Other  stat- 
utes regulate  the  dress  in  Rome.  —  xiv.  10,  1. 

3  Compare  the  description  of  the  manners  and  habits  of  the  Roman  no- 
bles in  Ammianus  Marcellinus,  so  well  transferred  into  English  in  the  thirty- 
first  chapter  of  Gibbon,  vol.  v.  p.  258-268. 


Chap.  I.  CIVIL  APPOINTMENTS.  253 

were  in  most  respects  an  elaborate  imitation  of  those 
of  Rome. 

Tlie  provincial  cities,  according  to  the  national 
character,  imitated  the  old  and  new  Rome ;  and  in  all, 
no  doubt,  the  nobility,  or  the  higher  order,  were  of 
the  same  character  and  habits. 

On  the  appointment  to  the  provincial  governments, 
and  the  high  civil  offices  of  the  empire,  Christianity  at 
this  time  exercised  by  no  means  a  commanding,  cer- 
tainly no  exclusive,  influence.  Either  superior  merit, 
or  court  intrigue,  or  favor,  bestowed  civil  offices  with 
impartial  hand  on  Christian  and  Pagan.  The  Rufinus 
or  the  Eutropius  cared  little  whether  the  bribe  was 
offered  by  a  worshipper  in  the  church  or  in  the  temple. 
The  Heathen  Themistius  was  appointed  Prefect  of 
Constantinople  by  the  intolerant  Theodosius  ;  Prsetex- 
tatus  and  Symmachns  held  the  highest  civil  functions 
in  Rome.  The  prefect  who  was  so  obstinate  an  enemy 
to  Chrysostom  was  Optatus,  a  Pagan.  At  a  later 
period,  as  I  have  observed,  a  statue  was  raised  to  the 
Heathen  poet  Merobaudes. 

But,  besides  the  officers  of  the  imperial  government, 
of  the  provinces,  and  the  municipalities,  there  now 
appeared  a  new  order  of  functionaries,  with  recog- 
nized if  undefined  powers,  —  the  religious  magistrates 
of  the  religious  community.  In  this  magisterial  char- 
acter, the  new  hierarchy  differed  from  the  ancient 
priesthoods,  at  least  of  Greece  and  Rome.  In  Greece, 
these  were  merely  the  officiating  dignitaries  in  the 
religious  ceremonial:  in  Rome,  the  pontifical  was 
attached  to,  and  in  effect  merged  in,  the  important 
civil  function.  But  Christianity  had  its  own  distinct 
and  separate  aristocracy,  which  not  merely  officiated 
in  the  church,  but  ruled  the  public  mind,  and  mingled 


254  GROWTH  OF  EPISCOPACY.  Book  IV. 

itself  with  the  various  affairs  of  life,  far  beyond  this 
narrow  sphere  of  religious  ministration. 

The  Christian  hierarchy  was  completely  organized 
and  established  in  the  minds  of  men  before  the  great 
revolutions  which,  under  Constantine,  legalized  Chris- 
tianity, and,  under  Theodosius  and  his  successors, 
identified  the  Church  and  state.  The  strength  of  the 
sacerdotal  power  was  consolidated  before  it  came  into 
inevitable  collision,  or  had  to  dispute  its  indefinable 
limits  with  the  civil  authority.  Mankind  was  now 
submitted  to  a  double  dominion,  —  the  civil  supremacy 
of  the  emperor  and  his  subordinate  magistrates,  and 
that  of  the  bishop  with  his  inferior  priesthood. 

Up  to  the  establishment  of  Christianity  as  the  reli- 
Graduai  giou  of  tlic  statc,  tlic  clcrical  order  had  been 
mJnt'Sthe  tlic  solc  magistracy  of  the  new  communities, 
power.  But  it  is  uot  alouc  from  the  scantiness  of 

authentic  documents  concerning  the  earliest  Christian 
history,  but  from  the  inevitable  nature  of  things,  that 
the  development  of  the  hierarchical  power,  as  has 
already  been  partially  shown,^  was  gradual  and  un- 
traceable. In  the  infant  Cliristian  community,  we 
have  seen  that  the  chief  teacher  and  the  ruler,  almost 
immediately,  if  not  immediately,  became  the  same 
person.  It  was  not  so  much  that  he  was  formally 
invested  in  authority,  as  that  his  advice,  his  guidance, 
his  control,  were  sought  on  all  occasions  with  timid 
dif&dence,  and  obeyed  with  unhesitating  submission. 
In  the  Christian,  if  it  may  be  so  said,  the  civil  was 
merged  in  the  religious  being  :  he  abandoned  willingly 
his  rights  as  a  citizen,  almost  as  a  man,  his  inde- 
pendence of  thought  and  action,  in  order  to  be  taught 
conformity  to  the  new  doctrines  which  he  had  em- 

1  Book  ii.  ch.  4. 


Chap.  I.  THE  EPISCOPATE.  255 

braced,  and  the  new  rule  of  life  to  which  he  had 
submitted  himself.  Community  of  sentiment,  rather 
than  any  strict  federal  compact,  was  the  primary  bond 
of  the  Christian  republic  ;  and  this  general  sentiment, 
even  prior,  perhaps,  to  any  formal  nomination  or 
ordination,  designated  the  heads  and  the  subordinate 
rulers,  the  bishops,  the  presbyters,  and  the  deacons ; 
and  therefore,  where  all  agreed,  there  was  no  question 
in  whom  resided  the  right  of  conferring  the  title. ^ 

The  simple  ceremonial  of  "  laying  on  of  hands," 
which  dedicated  the  individual  for  his  especial  func- 
tion, ratified  and  gave  its  religious  character  to  this 
popular  election  which  took  place  by  a  kind  of  silent 
acclamation;  and  without  this  sacred  commission  by 
the  bishop,  no  one,  from  the  earliest  times  of  which  we 
have  any  record,  presumed,  it  should  seem,  to  invest 
himself  in  the  sacred  office .^  The  civil  and  religious 
power  of  the  hierarchy  grew  up  side  by  side,  or  inter- 
twined with  each  other,  by  the  same  spontaneous  vital 
energy.  Every  thing  in  the  primary  formation  of  the 
communities  tended  to  increase  the  power  of  their  ec- 
clesiastical superiors.  The  investiture  of  the  blended 
teacher  and  ruler  in  a  sacred,  and  at  length  in  a  sacer- 
dotal  character,   the   rigid   separation  of  this  sacred 

1  The  growth  of  the  Christian  hierarchy,  and  the  general  constitution  of 
the  Church,  are  developed  with  learning,  candor,  and  moderation,  by  Planck, 
in  his  Geschichte  der  Christlich-Kirchlichen  Verfassung.    Hanover,  1803. 

2  Gradually  the  admission  to  orders  became  a  subject  not  merely  of  eccle- 
siastical, but  of  civil  regulation.  It  has  been  observed  that  the  decurion  was 
prohibited  from  taking  orders,  in  order  to  obtain  exemption  from  the  duties 
of  his  station.  —  Cod.  Theod.  xii.  1,  49.  No  slave,  curialis,  officer  of  the 
court,  public  debtor,  procurator,  or  collector  of  the  purple  dye  (murilegulus), 
or  one  involved  in  business,  might  be  ordained,  or,  if  ordained,  might  be  re- 
claimed to  his  former  state.  —  Cod.  Theod.  ix.  45,  3.  This  was  a  law  of  the 
close  of  the  fourth  century,  A.D.  398.  The  Council  of  Illiberis  had  made  a 
restriction,  that  no  freedman,  whose  patron  was  a  Gentile,  could  be  ordained; 
he  was  still  too  much  under  control.  —  Can.  Ixxx. 


256  THE  EPISCOPATE.  Bock  IV. 

order  from  the  mass  of  the  believers,  could  not  but 
arise  out  of  the  unavoidable  development  of  the  reli- 
gion. It  was  not  their  pride  or  ambition  that  withdrew 
them,  but  the  reverence  of  the  people  which  enshrined 
them  in  a  separate  sphere  :  they  did  not  usurp  or  even 
assume  their  power  and  authority ;  it  was  heaped  upon 
them  by  the  undoubting  and  prodigal  confidence  of  the 
community.  The  hopes  and  fears  of  men  would  have 
forced  this  honor  upon  them,  had  they  been  humbly 
reluctant  to  accept  it.  Man,  in  his  state  of  religious 
excitement,  imperiously  required  some  authorized  in- 
terpreters of  those  mysterious  revelations  from  heaven 
which  he  could  read  himself  but  imperfectly  and  ob- 
scurely ;  he  felt  the  pressing  necessity  of  a  spiritual 
guide.  The  privileges  and  distinctions  of  the  clergy, 
so  far  from  being  aggressions  on  his  religious  independ- 
ence, were  solemn  responsibilities  undertaken  for  the 
general  benefit.  The  Christian  commonalty,  according 
to  the  general  sentiment,  could  not  have  existed  with- 
out them,  nor  could  such  necessary  but  grave  functions 
be  intrusted  to  casual  or  common  hands.  No  individ- 
ual felt  himself  safe,  except  under  their  superintend- 
ence. Their  sole  right  of  entering  the  sanctuary  arose 
as  much  out  of  the  awe  of  the  people  as  out  of  their 
own  self-invested  holiness  of  character.  The  trembling 
veneration  for  the  mysteries  of  the  sacrament  must  by 
no  means  be  considered  as  an  artifice  to  exalt  them- 
selves as  the  sole  guardians  and  depositaries  of  these 
blessings  ;  it  was  the  genuine  expression  of  their  own 
profoundest  feelings.  If  the  clergy  had  not  assumed 
the  keys  of  heaven  and  hell ;  if  they  had  not  appeared 
legitimately  to  possess  the  power  of  pronouncing  the 
eternal  destiny  of  man,  of  suspending  or  excommuni- 
cating from  those   Christian   privileges   which   weie 


Chap.  I.  THE  EPISCOPATE,  257 

inseparably  connected  in  Christian  belief  with  the 
eternal  sentence,  or  of  absolving  and  re-admitting 
into  the  pale  of  the  Church  and  of  salvation,  —  among 
the  mass  of  believers,  the  uncertainty,  the  terror,  the 
agony  of  minds  fully  impressed  with  the  conviction  of 
their  immortality,  and  yearning  by  every  means  to 
obtain  the  assurance  of  pardon  and  peace,  with  heaven 
and  hell  constantly  before  their  eyes,  and  agitating 
their  inmost  being,  would  have  been  almost  insupport- 
able. However  the  clergy  might  exaggerate  their  pow- 
ers, they  could  not  extend  them  beyond  the  ready 
acquiescence  of  the  people.  They  could  not  possess 
the  power  of  absolving  without  that  of  condemning ; 
and  men  were  content  to  brave  the  terrors  of  the 
gloomier  award,  for  the  indescribable  consolations 
of  confidence  in  their  brighter  and  more  ennobling 
promises. 

The  change  in  the  relative  position  of  Christianity 
to  the  rest  of  the  world  tended  to  the  advancement  of 
the  hierarchy.  At  first  there  was  no  necessity  to 
guard  the  admission  into  the  society  with  rigid  or  sus- 
picious jealousy,  since  the  profession  of  Christianity  in 
the  face  of  a  hostile  world  was  in  itself  almost  a  suf- 
ficient test  of  sincerity.  Expulsion  from  the  society, 
or  a  temporary  exclusion  from  its  privileges,  which 
afterwards  grew  into  the  awful  forms  of  interdict  or 
excommunication,  must  have  been  extremely  rare 
or  unnecessary,^  since  he  who  could  not  endure  the 

1  The  case  in  St.  Paul's  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians  (1  Cor.  v.  5),  which  seems 
t-D  have  been  the  first  of  forcible  expulsion,  was  obviously  an  act  of  apostolic 
authority.  This,  it  is  probable,  was  a  Jewish  convert,  and  these  persons 
stood  in  a  peculiar  position:  they  would  be  ashamed,  or  would  not  be  permit- 
ted, to  return  into  the  bosom  of  the  Jewish  community,  which  they  had  aban- 
doned, and,  if  expelled  from  the  Christian  Church,  would  be  complete 
outcasts.  Not  so  the  Heathen  apostate,  who  might  one  day  leave,  and  the 
next  return  to  his  old  religion  with  all  its  advantages. 

VOL.  III.  17 


258  EXPULSION  OR  EXCOMMUNICATION.  Book  IV 

discipline,  or  who  doubted  again  the  doctrines  of  Chris- 
tianity, had  nothing  to  do  but  to  abandon  a  despised 
sect,  and  revert  to  the  freedom  of  the  world.  The 
older  and  more  numerous  the  community,  severer 
regulations  were  requisite  for  the  admission  of  mem- 
bers, the  maintenance  of  order,  of  unity  in  doctrine, 
and  propriety  of  conduct,  as  well  as  for  the  ejection  of 
Expulsion  or  uuworthy  disciplcs.     Men  began  to  be  Chris- 

excommuni-        .  i  •      •  i  n 

cation.  tiaus,  uot  irom  personal  conviction,  but  from 

hereditary  descent,  as  children  of  Christian  parents. 
The  Church  was  filled  with  doubtful  converts,  some 
from  the  love  of  novelty,  others,  when  they  incurred 
less  danger  and  obloquy,  from  less  sincere  faith  ;  some, 
no  doubt,  of  the  base  and  profligate,  from  the  desire  of 
partaking  in  the  well-known  charity  of  the  Christians  to 
their  poorer  brethren.  Many  became  Christians,  hav- 
ing just  strength  of  mind  enough  to  embrace  its  tenets, 
but  not  to  act  up  to  its  duties.  A  more  severe  'inves- 
tigation, therefore,  became  necessary  for  admission 
into  the  society,  a  more  summary  authority  for  the 
expulsion  of  improper  members.^  These  powers  nat- 
urally devolved  on  the  heads  of  the  community,  who 
had  either  originally  possessed,  and  transmitted  by 
regularly  appointed  descent,  or  held  by  general  con- 
sent, the  exclusive  administration  of  the  religious  rites, 
the  sacraments,  which  were  the  federal  bonds  of  the 

1  It  is  curious  to  find  that  both  ecclesiastical  and  civil  laws  against  apos- 
tasy were  constantly  necessary.  The  Council  of  Elvira  re-admits  an  apostate 
to  communion,  who  has  not  worshipped  idols,  after  ten  years'  penance.  The 
laws  of  Gratian  and  Theodosius,  and  even  of  Arcadius  and  Valentinian  III., 
speak  a  more  menacing  language :  the  Christian  who  has  become  a  Pagan 
forfeits  the  right  of  bequeathing  by  will;  his  will  is  null  and  void.  —  Cod. 
Theod.  xvi.  7,  1,  22.  A  law  of  Valentinian  II.  inflicts  the  same  penalty 
(only  with  some  limitation)  on  apostates  to  Judaism  or  Manicheism.  The 
laws  of  Arcadius  and  Valentinian  III.  prove,  by  the  severity  of  their  prohi- 
bitions, not  only  that  cases  of  apostasy  took  place,  but  that  sacrifices  were 
still  frequently  oflfered.  —  Cod.  Theodos.  xvi.  tit.  de  Apostatis. 


Chap.  I.  THE  EPISCOPAL  POWER.  259 

communitj.  Their  strictly  civil  functions  became  like- 
wise more  extensive  and  important.  All  legal  disputes 
had,  from  the  first,  been  submitted  to  the  increase  in 

T     .  .    ,  .  their  civil 

rehgious  magistracy,  not  as  interpreters  of  influence. 
the  laws  of  the  empire,  but  as  best  acquainted  with  the 
higher  principles  of  natural  justice  and  Christian 
equity.  The  religious  heads  of  the  communities  were 
the  supreme  and  universally  recognized  arbiters  in 
all  the  transactions  of  Hfe.  When  the  magistrate 
became  likewise  a  Christian,  and  the  two  communities 
were  blended  into  one,  considerable  dijfficulty  could  not 
but  arise,  as  we  shall  hereafter  see,  in  the  limits  of 
their  respective  jurisdictions. 

But  the  magisterial  or  ruling  part  of  the  ecclesias- 
tical function  became  thus  more  and  more  relatively 
important;  government  gradually  became  an  affair 
of  asserted  superiority  on  one  hand,  of  exacted  sub- 
mission on  the  other  ;  but  still  the  general  voice  would 
long  be  in  favor  of  the  constituted  authorities.  The 
episcopal  power  would  be  a  mild,  a  constitutional,  an 
unoppressive,  and  therefore  unquestioned  and  unlimited 
sovereignty ;  for,  in  truth,  in  the  earlier  period,  what 
was  the  bishop,  and  in  a  subordinate  degree,  the  pres- 
byter, or  even  the  deacon?  He  was  the  religious 
superior,  elected  by  general  acclamation,  or  at  least, 
by  general  consent,  as  commanding  that  station  by 
his  unrivalled  religious  qualifications  ;  he  was  solemnly 
invested  in  his  office  by  a  religious  ceremony ;  he  was 
the  supreme  arbiter  in  such  civil  matters  as  occurred 
among  the  members  of  the  body,  and  thus  the  con- 
servator of  peace ;  he  was  the  censor  of  morals,  the 
minister  in  holy  rites,  the  instructor  in  the  doctrines 
of  the  faith,  the  adviser  in  all  scruples,  the  consoler 
in  all  sorrows;  he  was  the  champion  of  the  truth; 


260  THE  PRIMITIVE  BISHOP.  Book  IV. 

in  the  hour  of  trial,  the  first  victim  of  persecution,  the 
The  bishop  designated  martyr.  Of  a  being  so  sanctified, 
eommunity.  SO  onnoblcd  to  thc  thought,  what  jealous 
suspicion  would  arise,  what  power  would  be  with- 
holden  from  one  whose  commission  would  seem  ratified 
by  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God?  Power  might  generate 
ambition,  distinction  might  be  attended  by  pride ;  but 
the  transition  would  not  be  perceived  by  the  dazzled 
sight  of  respect,  of  reverence,  of  veneration,  and  of 
love. 

Above  all,  diversities  of  religious  opinion  would  tend 
Dissensions  ^^  iucrcase  the  influence  and  the  power  of 
iause^ofin-''^  thosc  who  hcld  tlic  rcligious  supremacy.  It 
sI^SdoTai  has  been  said,  not  without  some  authority, 
power.  ^1^^^  ^-^^  establishment  of  episcopacy  in  the 

apostolic  times  arose  for  the  control  of  the  differences 
with  the  Judaizing  converts.^  The  multitude  of  be- 
lievers would  take  refuge  under  authority  from  the 
doubts  and  perplexities  thus  cast  among  them ;  they 
would  be  grateful  to  men  who  would  think  for  them, 
and  in  whom  their  confidence  might  seem  to  be  justi- 
fied by  their  station ;  a  formulary  of  faith  for  such 
persons  would  be  the  most  acceptable  boon  to  the 
Christian  society.  This  would  be  more  particularly 
the  case  when,  as  in  the  Asiatic  communities,  these 
were  not  merely  slight  and  unimportant,  but  vital 
points  of  difference.  The  Gnosticism,  which  the 
bishops  of  Asia  Minor  and  of  Syria  had  to  combat, 
was  not  a  Christian  sect  or  heresy,  but  another  reli- 
gion, although  speaking  in  some  degree  Christian 
language.     The  justifiable  alarm  of  these  dangerous 

1  No  doubt  this  kind  of  constant  and  of  natural  appeal  to  the  supreme  re- 
ligious functionary  must  have  materially  tended  to  strengthen  and  confinn 
this  power. 


Chap.  I.  THE  PRIMITIVE  BISHOP.  1261 

encroachments  would  induce  the  teachers  and  gov- 
ernors to  assume  a  loftier  and  more  dictatorial  tone ; 
those  untainted  by  the  new  opinions  would  vindicate 
and  applaud  their  acknowledged  champions  and  de- 
fenders. Hence  we  account  for  the  strong  language  in 
the  Epistles  of  Ignatius,  which  appears  to  claim  the 
extraordinary  rank  of  actual  representatives,  not 
merely  of  the  apostles,  but  of  Christ  himself,  for  the 
bishops,  precisely  in  this  character,  as  maintainers  of 
the  true  Christian  doctrine.^     In  the  pseudo-Apostolic 

1  My  OAvn  impression  is  decidedly  in  favor  of  the  genuineness  of  these 
Epistles,  —  the  shorter  ones  I  mean,  —  which  are  vindicated  by  Pearson;  nor 
do  I  suspect  that  these  passages,  which  are  too  frequent,  and  too  much  in  the 
style  and  spirit  of  the  whole,  are  later  interpolations.  Certainly  the  fact  of 
the  existence  of  two  different  copies  of  these  Epistles  throws  doubt  on  the 
genuineness  of  both ;  but  I  receive  them  partly  from  an  historical  argument, 
which  I  have  suggested  (vol.  ii.  p.  105),  partly  from  internal  evidence.  Some 
of  their  expressions,  —  e.g.,  "  Be  ye  subject  to  the  bishop  as  to  Jesus  Christ" 
(ad  Trail,  c.  2) ;  "  Follow  your  bishop  as  Jesus  Christ  the  Father,  the  presby- 
tery as  the  apostles,  reverence  the  deacons  as  the  ordinance  of  God"  (ad 
Smyrn.  c.  8),  —  taken  as  detached  sentences,  and  without  regard  to  the  figura- 
tive style  and  ardent  manner  of  the  writer,  would  seem  so  extraordinary  a 
transition  from  the  tone  of  the  apostles,  as  to  throw  still  further  doubts  on  the 
authenticity,  at  least,  of  these  sentences.  But  it  may  be  observed,  that,  in  these 
strong  expressions,  the  object  of  the  wi-iter  does  not  seem  to  be  to  raise  the 
sacerdotal  power,  but  rather  to  enforce  Christian  unity,  with  direct  reference 
to  these  fatal  differences  of  doctrine.  In  another  passage,  he  says :  "  Be  ye 
subject  to  the  bishop  and  to  each  other  (rcj  ettcgkottc}  koX  uXkrjXoLg),  as  Jesus 
Christ  to  the  Father,  and  the  apostles  to  Christ,  to  the  Father  and  to  the 
Spirit." 

I  cannot  indeed  understand  the  inference  that  all  the  language  or  tenets 
of  Christians  who  may  have  heai'd  the  apostles  are  to  be  considered  of  apos- 
tolic authority.  Ignatius  was  a  vehement  and  strongly  figurative  writer,  very 
different  in  his  tone,  according  to  my  judgment,  to  the  apostolic  writings. 
His  eager  desire  for  martyrdom,  his  deprecating  the  interference  of  the  Ro- 
man Christians  in  his  behalf,  is  remarkably  at  variance  with  the  sober  dignity 
with  which  the  apostles  did  not  seek,  but  submitted  to  death.  That  which 
may  have  been  high-wrought  metaphor  in  Ignatius,  is  repeated  by  the  author 
of  the  Apostolic  Constitutions,  without  reserve  or  limitation.  This,  I  think, 
may  be  fairly  taken  as  indicative  of  the  language  prevalent  at  the  end  of  the 
third  or  beginning  of  the  fourth  century,  —  viilv  b  eniaKOKog  elg  Qeov  tstL' 
UTjcBo.  The  bishop  is  to  be  honored  as  God.  —  ii.  30.  The  language  of 
Ps.  Ixxxi.,  "  Ye  are  gods,"  is  applied  to  them:  they  are  as  much  greater  than 


262  CLERICAL  USURPATIONS.  Book  IV. 

Constitutions,  which  belong  probably  to  the  latter  end 
of  the  third  century,  this  more  than  apostolic  author- 
ity is  sternly  and  unhesitatingly  asserted.^  Thus, 
the  separation  between  the  clergy  and  laity  continually 
widened ;  the  teacher  or  ruler  of  the  community 
became  the  dictator  of  doctrine,  the  successor,  not  of 
the  bishop  appointed  by  apostolic  authority  ,2  or  ac- 
cording to  apostolic  usage,  but  of  the  apostle ;  and 
at  length  took  on  himself  a  sacerdotal  name  and  dig- 
nity. A  strong  corporate  spirit,  which  arises  out  of 
associations  formed  for  the  noblest  as  well  as  for  the 
most  unworthy  objects,  could  not  but  actuate  the  hie- 
rarchical college  which  was  formed  in  each  diocese  or 
each  city  by  the  bishop  and  more  or  less  numerous 
presbyters  and  deacons.  The  control  on  the  autocracy 
of  the  bishop,  which  was  exercised  by  this  senate  of 
presbyters,  without  whom  he  rarely  acted,  tended  to 
strengthen,  rather  than  to  invalidate,  the  authority 
of  the  gejieral  body,  in  which  all  particular  and  adverse 
interests  were  absorbed  in  that  of  the  clerical  order.^ 

the  king,  as  the  soul  is  superior  to  the  body,  —  GTspynv  bfeiXere  ug  Ttarepa, 
—  (pof^eladat,  ug  (Saatlea.  —  1st  edit. 

The  question  of  the  genuineness  and  authority  of  the  Ignatian  Epistles  has 
been  placed  in  an  entirely  new  light,  or  perhaps  has  been  inwrapped  in  a 
more  indistinct  haze,  by  the  valuable  publication  of  the  Syriac  Ignatius  by 
Dr.  Cureton.  With  this  should  be  read  some  of  the  answers,  especially  Dr. 
Hussey's,  and  Baron  Bunsen's  Dissertation.  My  conclusion  is,  that  I  should 
be  unwilling  to  claim  historical  authority  for  any  passage  not  contained  in 
Dr.  Cureton's  Syriac  reprint.  There  is  enough  in  Dr.  Cureton's  copy  to  jus- 
tify the  text,  which  I  leave  unaltered,  though  some  of  the  quotations  are 
probably  not  genuine.    (1863.) 

1  OvTog  vulv  emyecog  Qfbg  fiera  Qtov. — lib.  ii.  c.  26. 

2  The  full  apostolic  authority  was  claimed  for  the  bishops,  I  think,  first  dis- 
tinctly, at  a  later  period.  See  the  letter  from  Firmilianus  in  Cyprian's  works, 
Epist.  Ixxv.  "  Potestas  peccatorum  remittendortira  apostolis  data  est  .  .  . 
et  episcopis  qui  eis  vicaria,  ordinatione  successerunt." 

3  Even  Cyprian  enforces  his  own  authorit}'  by  that  of  his  concurrent  col- 
lege of  presbyters :  "  Quando  a  primordio  episcopatiis  mei  statuerem,  nihil 
sine  consilio  vestro,  et  ciun  consensu  plebis,  mea  privatira  sententia  gerere." 


Chap.  I.         THE  SACERDOTAL  CASTE.  263 

The  language  of  the  Old  Testament,  which  was  re- 
ceived perhaps  with  o:reater  readiness,  from  Language 

^  ^  °      .  .  '.  of  the  Old 

the  contemptuous  aversion  in  which  it  was  Testamwit. 
held  by  the  Gnostics,  on  this  as  on  other  subjects, 
gradually  found  its  way  into  the  Church.^  But  the 
strong  and  marked  line  between  the  minis-  ciergyand 
terial  or  magisterial  order  (the  clergy)  and  ^^^^^'' 
the  inferior  Christians,  the  people  (the  laity),  had 
been  drawn,  before  the  bishop  became  a  pontiff  (for 
the  Heathen  names  were  likewise  used),  the  presbyters 
the  sacerdotal  order,  and  the  deacons,  a  class  of  men 
who  shared  in  the  indelible  sanctity  of  the  new  priest- 
hood. The  common  priesthood  of  all  Christians,  as 
distinguishing  them  by  their  innocent  and  dedicated 
character  from  the  profane  Heathen,  asserted  in  the 
Epistle  of  St.  Peter,  was  the  only  notion  of  the  sacer- 
dotal character  at  first  admitted  into  the  popular  sen- 
timent.^ The  appellation  of  the  sacerdotal  order 
began  to  be  metaphorically  applied  to  the  Christian 
clergy ,3  but  soon  became  real  titles  ;  and  by  the  close 
of  the  third  century,  they  were  invested  in  the  names 
and  claimed  the  rights  of  the  Levitical  priesthood  in 
the   Jewish   theocracy.*     The   Epistle   of  Cyprian   to 

—  Epist.  V.  In  other  passages,  he  says,  "  Cui  rei  non  potui  me  sohim  judi- 
cem  dare."  He  had  acted,  therefore,  "  cum  collegis  raeis,  et  cum  plebe  ips§i 
universa."  —  Epist.  xxviii. 

1  It  is  universally  adopted  in  the  Apostolic  Constitutions.  The  crnne  of 
Korah  is  significantly  adduced ;  tithes  are  mentioned,  I  beUeve,  for  the  first 
time,  ii.  25.     Compare  vi.  2. 

2  See  the  well-known  passage  of  Tertullian :  "  iNTonne  et  laici  sacerdotes 
sumus?  .  .  .  DifFerentiam  inter  ordinem  et  plebem  constituit  ecclesiae  aucto- 
ritas."  Tertullian  evidently  Montanizes  in  this  treatise,  De  Exhort.  Castit. 
c.  7,  yet  seems  to  deliver  these  as  maxims  generally  acknowledged. 

3  We  find  the  first  appearance  of  this  in  the  figurative  Ignatius.  Tertul- 
Kan  uses  the  term  "  smnrai  Sacerdotes." 

4  The  passage  in  the  Epistle  of  Clemens  (ad  Roman,  c.  40),  in  which  the 
analogy  of  the  ministerial  offices  of  the  church  with  the  priestly  functions  of 


264  THE  SACERDOTAL  CASTE.        Book  IV. 

Cornelius,  Bishop  of  Rome,  shows  the  height  to  which 
the  episcopal  power  had  aspired  before  the  religion  of 
Christ  had  become  that  of  the  Roman  empire.  The 
passages  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  even  of  the  New, 
in  which  honor  or  deference  are  paid  to  the  Hebrew 
pontificate,  are  recited  in  profuse  detail ;  implicit  obe- 
dience is  demanded  for  the  priest  of  God,  who  is  the 
sole  infallible  judge  or  delegate  of  Christ.^ 

Even  if  it  had  been  possible  that,  in  their  state 
of  high-wrought  attachment  and  reverence  for  the 
teachers  and  guardians  of  their  religion,  any  mistrust 
could  have  arisen  in  the  more  sagacious  and  far- 
sighted  minds  of  the  vast  system  of  sacerdotal  domi- 
nation, of  which  they  were  thus  laying  the  deep 
foundations  in  the  Roman  world,  there  was  no  recol- 
lection or  tradition  of  any  priestly  tyranny  from  which 
they  could  take  warning  or  imbibe  caution.  These 
sacerdotal  castes  were  obsolete  or  Oriental ;  tlie  only 
one  within  their  sphere  of  knowledge  was  that  of  the 
Magians  in  the  hostile  kingdom  of  Persia.  In  Greece, 
the  priesthood  had  sunk  into  the  neglected  ministers 
of  the  deserted  temples ;  their  highest  dignity  was  to 
preside  over  the  amusements  of  the  people.  The 
emperor  had  now  at  length  disdainfully  cast  off  the 
supreme  pontificate  of  the  Heathen  world,  which  had 
long  been  a  title,  and  nothing  more.     Even  among  the 

the  Jewish  temple  is  distinctly  developed,  is  rejected  as  an  interpolation  by- 
all  judicious  and  impartial  scholars. 

1  See  his  sixty-eighth  Epistle,  in  which  he  draws  the  analogy  between  the 
legitimate  bishop  and  the  sacerdos  of  the  law,  the  irregularly  elected  and 
Korah,  Dathan,  and  Abiram:  "  Neque  enim  aliunde  haereses  obortse  sunt,  aut 
nata  sunt  schismata,  quara  inde  quod  sacerdoti  Dei  non  ohtemjieratur^  nee 
unus  in  ecclesia  ad  tempus  sacerdo?,  et  ad  tempus  Judex,  vice  Chnsii  cogi- 
tatur :  cui  si  secundum  magisteria  divina  obtemperaret  fraternitas  universa, 
nemo  adversum  sacerdotum  collegium  quicquam  moveret."  —  Ad  Cornel., 
Epist.  Iv. 


Chap.  I.        CHANGE  IN  THE  MODE  OF   ELECTION.  265 

Jews,  the  rabbinical  hierarchy,  which  had  gained  con- 
siderable strength,  even  during  our  Saviour's  time, 
but  after  the  fall  of  the  Temple,  and  the  publication  of 
the  Talmuds,  had  assumed  a  complete  despotism  over 
the  Jewish  mind,  was  not  a  priesthood.  The  Rabbins 
came  promiscuously  from  all  the  tribes :  their  claims 
rested  on  learning  and  on  knowledge  of  the  traditions 
of  the  Fathers,  not  on  Levitical  descent. 

Nor,  indeed,  could  any  danger  be  apparent,  so  long 
as  the  free  voice  of  the  community,  guided  by  fervent 
piety  and  rarely  perverted  by  less  worthy  motives,  sum- 
moned the  wisest  and  the  holiest  to  these  important 
functions.  The  nomination  to  the  sacred  office  expe- 
rienced the  same,  more  gradual,  perhaps,  but  not  less 
inevitable,  change  from  the  popular  to  the  self-electing 
form.  The  acclamation  of  the  united,  and  seldom, 
if  ever,  discordant  voices  of  the  presbyters  and  the 
people,  might  be  trusted  with  the  appointment  to  the 
headship  of  a  poor  and  devout  community,  whose 
utmost  desire  was  to  worship  God,  and  to  fulfil  their 
Christian  duties  in  uninterrupted  obscurity.  But,  as 
the  episcopate  became  an  object  of  ambition  change  in 

.  T  1  •  P  •  the  mode 

or  interest,  the  disturbing  forces  which  ope-  of  election. 
rate  on  the  justice  and  wisdom  of  popular  elections 
could  not  but  be  called  forth ;  and  slowly  the  clergy, 
by  example,  by  influence,  by  recommendation,  by  dic- 
tation, by  usurpation,  identified  their  acknowledged 
right  of  consecration  for  a  particular  office  with  that 
of  appointment  to  it.  This  was  one  of  their  last 
triumphs.  In  the  days  of  Cyprian,  and  towards  the 
close  of  the  third  century,  the  people  had  the  right  of 
electing,  or  at  least  of  rejecting,  candidates  for  the 
priesthood.!     In  the  latter  half  of  the  fourth  century, 

1  "  Plebs  ipsa  maxime  habeat  potestatem  vel  eligeadi  dignos  sacerdotes, 


266  ORIGIN  OF  THE  SECULAR   CLERGY.  Book  IV. 

the  streets  of  Rome  ran  with  blood  in  the  contest  of 
Damasus  and  Ursicinus  for  the  bisliopric  of  Rome ; 
both  factions  arrayed  against  each  other  the  priests 
and  the  people  who  v^ere  their  respective  partisans. ^ 
Thus  the  clergj  had  become  a  distinct  and  recognized 
class  in  society,  consecrated  by  a  solemn  ceremony, 
the  imposition  of  hands,  which,  however,  does  not  yet 
seem  to  have  been  indelible. ^  But  each  church  was 
still  a  separate  and  independent  community ;  the 
bishop  as  its  sovereign,  the  presbyters,  and  sometimes 
the  deacons,  as  a  kind  of  religious  senate,  conducted 
all  its  internal  concerns.  Great  deference  was  paid 
from  the  first  to  the  bishops  of  the  more  important 
sees :  the  number  and  wealth  of  the  congregations 
would  give  them  weight  and  dignity  ;  and,  in  general, 
those  prelates  would  be  men  of  the  highest  character 
and  attainments.  Yet  promotion  to  a  wealthier  or 
more  distinguished  see  was  looked  upon  as  betraying 
worldly  ambition.  The  enemies  of  Eusebius,  the 
Arian  or  Semi-Arian  Bishop  of  Constantinople,  bit- 
terly taunted  him  with  his  elevation  from  the  less 
important  see  of  Nicomedia  to  the  episcopate  of  the 
Eastern  metropolis.  This  translation  was  prohibited 
by  some  councils.^ 

vel  indignos  recusandi."  —  Epist.  Ixvii.  Cornelius  was  "testimonio  cleri,  ac 
suftVagio  populi  electus."  Compare  Apostol.  Constit.  viii.  4.  The  Council  of 
Laodicea  (at  the  beginning  of  the  fourth  century)  ordains  that  bishops  are  to 
be  appointed  by  the  metropolitans,  and  that  the  multitude,  ol  ox^^ol,  are  not 
to  designate  persons  for  the  priesthood. 

1  Ammianus  Marcell.  xxvii.  3 ;  Hierom.  in  Chron.  Compare  Gibbon,  vol. 
iv.  259. 

2  A  canon  of  the  Council  of  ChaJcedon  (can.  7)  prohibits  the  return  of  a 
spiritual  person  to  the  laity,  and  his  assumption  of  lay-offices  in  the  state. 
See  also  Cone.  Turon.  i.  c.  5.  The  laws  of  Justinian  confiscate  to  the  Church 
the  property  of  any  priest  who  has  forsaken  his  orders.  —  Cod.  Just.  i.  tit. 
iii.  53 ;  Nov.  v.  4,  125,  c.  15.  This  seems  to  imply  that  the  practice  warf  not 
uncommon,  even  at  that  late  period.     Compare  Planck,  vol.  i.  399. 

8  Synod.  Nic.  can.  15 ;  Cone.  Sard.  c.  2 ;  Cone.  Arel.  21. 


Chap.  I.  METROPOLITAN  BISHOPS.  267 

The  level  of  ecclesiastical  or  episcopal  dignity  grad- 
ually broke  up ;  some  bishops  emerged  into  Metropolitan 
a  higher  rank ;  the  single  community  over  ^^^°p^- 
which  the  bishop  originally  presided  grew  into  the 
'  aggregation  of  several  communities,  and  formed  a 
diocese;  the  metropolitan  rose  above  the  ordinary 
bishop,  the  patriarch  assumed  a  rank  above  the  metro- 
politan, till  at  length,  in  the  regularly  graduated  scale, 
the  primacy  of  Rome  was  asserted,  and  submitted  to 
by  the  humble  and  obsequious  West. 

The  diocese  grew  up  in  two  ways :  1.  In  the 
larger  cities,  the  rapid  increase  of  the  Chris-  Formation  of 
tians  led  necessarily  to  the  formation  of  *^®^*o^«s«- 
separate  congregations,  which,  to  a  certain  extent, 
required  each  its  proper  organization,  yet  invariably 
remained  subordinate  to  the  single  bishop.  In  Rome, 
towards  the  beginning  of  the  fourth  century,  there 
were  above  forty  churches,  rendering  allegiance  to  the 
prelate  of  the  metropolis. 

2.  Christianity  was  first  established  in  the  towns 
and  cities,  and  from  each  centre  diffused 
itself  with  more  or  less  success  into  the 
adjacent  country.  In  some  of  these  country  congre- 
gations, bishops  appear  to  have  been  established,  yet 
these  chorepiscopi,  or  rural  bishops,  maintained  some 
subordination  to  the  head  of  the  mother  church ;  ^  or, 
where  the  converts  were  fewer,  the  rural  Christians 
remained  members  of  the  mother  church  in  tlie  city.^ 
In  Africa,  from  the  immense  number  of  bishops, 
each  community  seems  to  have  had  its  own  superior ; 

1  See  in  Bingham,  Ant.  b.  ii.  c.  14,  the  controversy  about  the  chorepiscopi, 
or  rural  bishops. 

2  Justin  Martyr  speaks  of  the  country  converts :  TravTcjv  Kara  TvoXeig  7 
aypavg  fievovruv,  km  rd  avrb  ovvslevacg  yiverai.  —  Apolog.  i.  67. 


268        THE  PATRIARCHS  OF  THE  EAST.     Book  IV. 

but  this  was  peculiar  to  the  province.  In  general,  the 
churches  adjacent  to  the  towns  or  cities,  either  origin- 
ally were,  or  became,  the  diocese  of  the  city  bishop ; 
for,  as  soon  as  Christianity  became  the  religion  of  the 
state,  the  powers  of  the  rural  bishops  were  restricted, 
and  the  office  at  length  was  either  abolished  or  fell  into 
disuse.^ 

The  rank  of  the  metropolitan  bishop,  who  presided 
over  a  certain  number  of  inferior  bishops,  and  the  con- 
vocation of  ecclesiastical  or  episcopal  synods,  grew  up 
apparently  at  the  same  time  and  from  the  same  causes. 
The  earliest  authentic  synods  seem  to  have  arisen  out 
of  the  disputes  about  the  time  of  observing  Easter ;  ^ 
but  before  the  middle  of  the  third  century,  these 
occasional  and  extraordinary  meetings  of  the  clergy 
in  certain  districts  took  the  form  of  provincial  synods. 
These  began  in  the  Grecian  provinces,^  but  extended 
throughout  the  Christian  world.  In  some  cases  they 
seem  to  have  been  assemblies  of  bishops  alone ;  in 
others,  of  the  whole  clergy.  They  met  once  or  twice 
in  the  year  ;  they  were  summoned  by  the  metropolitan 
bishop,  who  presided  in  the  meeting,  and  derived  from, 
or  confirmed  his  metropolitan  dignity  by  this  presi- 
dency.* 

As  the  metropolitans  rose  above  the  bishops,  so  the 
Archbishops  archbishops,  or  patriarchs,  rose  above  the 
archs.  metropolitans.     These  ecclesiastical  dignities 

seem  to  have  been  formed  according  to  the  civil  divis- 

1  Concil.  Antioch.  can.  10;  Concil.  Ancyr.  c.  13;  Cone.  Laod.  c.  57. 

2  See  the  list  of  earlier  synods  chiefly  on  this  subject,  Labbe,  Concilia,  vol.  i. 
pp.  595,  650,  edit.  Paris,  1671. 

8  See  the  remarkable  passage  in  TertuUian  de  Jejunio,  with  the  ingenious 
commentary  of  Mosheim,  De  Reb.  Christ,  ante  Const.  M.  pp.  264,  268. 

4  "  Necessario  apud  nos  fit,  ut  per  singulos  annos  seniores  et  prsepositi  in 
tmum  conveniamus,  ad  disponenda  ea,  quae  curae  nostrae  commissa  sunt."  — 
Firm,  ad  Cyprian.  Ep.  75. 


Chap.  I.  THE  PONTIFF  OF  THE  WEST.  269 

ions  of  the  empire.^  The  Patriarchs  of  Antioch, 
Jerusalem,  Alexandria,  Rome,  and,  by  a  formal  decree 
of  the  Council  of  Chalcedon,  Constantinople,  assumed 
even  a  higher  dignity.  They  asserted  the  right,  in 
some  cases,  of  appointing,  in  others  of  deposing,  even 
metropolitan  bishops. ^ 

While  Antioch,  Alexandria,  and  Constantinople  con- 
tested the  supremacy  of  the  East,  the  two  former 
as  more  ancient  and  apostolic  churches,  the  latter  as 
the  imperial  city,  Rome  stood  alone,  as  in  every  re- 
spect the  most  eminent  church  in  the  West.  While 
other  churches  might  boast  their  foundation  by  a  sin- 
gle apostle  (and  those  churches  were  always  held  in 
peculiar  respect),  Rome  asserted  that  she  had  been 
founded  by,  and  preserved  the  ashes  of,  two,  and  those 
the  most  distinguished  of  the  apostolic  body.  Before 
the  end  of  the  third  century,  the  lineal  descent  of  her 
bishops  from  St.  Peter  was  unhesitatingly  claimed,  and 
obsequiously  admitted  by  the  Christian  world. ^  The 
name  of  Rome  was  still  imposing  and  majestic,  partic- 
ularly in  the  West ;  the  wealth  of  the  Roman 

•^  '  Rome. 

bishop  probably  surpassed  that  of  other  pre- 

1  Bingham  names  thirteen  or  fourteen  patriarchs,  —  Alexandria,  Antioch, 
Caesarea,  Jerusalem,  Ephesus,  Constantinople,  Thessalonica,  Sirmium,  Eome, 
Carthage,  Milan,  Lyons,  Toledo,  York.  But  their  respective  claims  do  not 
appear  to  have  been  equally  recognized,  or  at  the  same  period. 

2  Chrysostom  deposed  Gerontius,  metropolitan  of  Nicoraedia.  Sozomen, 
viii.  6. 

3  The  passage  of  Irenseus  (lib.  ii.  c.  3),  as  is  well  kno-wn,  is  the  first  dis- 
tinct assertion  of  any  primacy  in  Peter,  and  derived  from  him  to  the  see  of 
Rome.  This  passage  would  be  better  authority,  if  it  existed  in  the  original 
language,  not  in  an  indifferent  translation;  if  it  were  the  language  of  an 
Eastern,  not  a  Western,  prelate,  who  might  acknowledge  a  supremacy  iu 
Rome,  which  would  not  have  been  admitted  by  the  older  Asiatic  sees;  still, 
more,  if  it  did  not  assert,  what  is  manifestly  untrue,  the  fowidation  of  the 
Church  of  Rome  by  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul ;  and,  finally,  if  Irenseus  could  be 
conclusive  authority  on  such  a  subject.  Planck  justly  observes,  that  the 
potior  principalitas  of  the  city  of  Rome  was  the  primary  reason  why  a  potior 
principalitas  was  recognized  in  the  see  of  Rome. 


270  THE  PONTIFF  OF  THE  WEST.  Book  IV. 

lates ;  for  Rome  was  still  the  place  of  general  con- 
course and  resort ;  and  the  pious  strangers  who  visited 
the  capital  would  not  withhold  their  oblations  to  the 
metropolitan  church.  Within  the  city,  he  presided 
over  above  forty  churches,  besides  the  suburbicarian 
districts.  The  whole  clerical  establishment  at  Rome 
amounted  to  forty-six  presbyters,  seven  deacons,  seven 
sub-deacons,  forty-two  acolyths,  fifty-two  exorcists, 
readers,  and  doorkeepers.  It  comprehended  fifteen 
hundred  widows  and  poor  brethren,  with  a  countless 
multitude  of  the  higlier  orders  and  of  the  people.  No 
wonder  that  the  name,  the  importance,  the  wealth, 
the  accredited  apostolic  foundation,  of  Rome,  arrayed 
her  in  pre-eminent  dignity.  Still,  in  his  correspond- 
ence with  the  Bishop  of  Rome,  the  general  tone  of 
Cyprian,  the  great  advocate  of  Christian  unity,  is  that 
of  an  equal ;  though  he  shows  great  respect  to  the 
Church  of  Rome,  it  is  to  the  faithful  guardian  of  an 
uninterrupted  tradition,  not  as  invested  with  superior 
authority.^ 

As  the  hierarchical  pyramid  tended  to  a  point,  its 
base  spread  out  into  greater  width.  The  greater  pomp 
of  the  services,  the  more  intricate  administration  of 
affairs,  the  greater  variety  of  regulations  required  by 

1  While  I  deliver  my  own  conclusions,  without  fear  or  compromise,  I 
would  avoid  all  controversy  on  this  as  well  as  on  other  subjects.  It  is  but 
right,  therefore,  for  me  to  give  the  two  apparently  conflicting  passages  in 
Cyprian  on  the  primacy  of  St.  Peter :  "  Nam  nee  Petrus  quern  primiim  Do- 
minus  elegit,  et  super  quern  sedificavit  Ecclcsiam  suam  .  .  .  vindicavit  sibi 
aliquid  insolenter  aut  arroganter  assumpsit,  ut  diceret  se  primatum  tenere,  et 
obtemperari  a  novellis  et  posteris  sibi  potius  oportere."  —  Epist.  Ixxi.  "  Hoc 
erant  utique  ca3teri  Apostoli,  quod  fuit  Petrus,  pari  consortio  pn\jditi  et  hono- 
ris et  potestatis;  sed  exordium  ab  unitate  proficiscitur,  et  primatus  Petro 
datur,  ut  una  Christi  ecclesia,  et  cathedra  una  monstretur."  —  De  Unit.  Ec- 
cles.  But  this  last  passage  is  of  more  than  doubtful  authenticity;  it  is,  no 
doubt,  spurious.  On  the  whole  of  this  I  have  enlarged  in  the  history  of 
Latin  Christianity. 


Chap.  I.  NEW  SACRED  OFFICES.  271 

the  increasing  and  now  strictly  separated  classes  of 
votaries,  imposed  the  necessity  for  new  functionaries, 
besides  the  bishops,  priests,  and  deacons.  These  were 
the  archdeacon  and  the  five  subordinate  officiating 
ministers,  who  received  a  kind  of  ordination^  1.  The 
sub-deacon,  who,  in  the  Eastern  church,  col-  New  sacred 
lected  the  alms  of  the  laity  and  laid  them  ''®''^'' 
upon  the  altar,  and,  in  the  Western,  acted  as  a 
messenger,  or  bearer  of  despatches.  2.  The  reader, 
who  had  the  custody  of  the  sacred  books,  and,  as  the 
name  implies,  read  them  during  the  service.  3.  The 
acolyth,  who  was  an  attendant  on  the  bishop,  carried 
the  lamp  before  him,  or  bore  the  Eucharist  to  the  sick. 
4.  The  exorcist,  who  read  the  solemn  forms  over  those 
possessed  by  demons,  the  energoumenoi,  and  some- 
times at  baptisms.  5.  The  ostiarius,  or  doorkeeper, 
who  assigned  his  proper  place  in  the  church  to  each 
member,  and  guarded  against  the  intrusion  of  im- 
proper persons. 

As  Christianity  assumed  a  more  manifest  civil 
existence,  the  closer  correspondence,  the  more  intimate 
sympathy,  between  its  remote  and  scattered  members, 
became  indispensable  to  its  strength  and  consistency. 
Its  uniformity  of  development  in  all  parts  of  the 
world  arose  out  of,  and  tended  to  promote,  this  unity. 
It  led  to  that  concentration  of  the  governing  power  in 
a  few,  which  terminated  at  length  in  the  West  in  the 
unrestricted  power  of  one. 

The  internal  unity  of  the  Church,  or  universally 
disseminated  body  of  Christians,  had  been  maintained 
by  the  general  similarity  of  doctrine,  of  sentiment,  of 
its  first  simple  usages  and  institutions,  and  the  common 
dangers  which  it  had  endured  in  all  parts  of  the  world. 
It  possessed  its  consociating  principles  in  the  occa- 


272  CHURCH-UNITY.  Book  TV. 

sional  correspondence  between  its  remote  members,  in 
those  recommendatory  letters  with  which  the  Christian 
Unity  in  ^^^^  travelled  was  furnished  to  his  brethren 
the  Church,  .j^  ^^YiQv  parts  of  the  empire ;  above  all,  in 
the  common  literature,  which,  including  the  sacred 
writings,  seems  to  have  spread  with  more  or  less  regu 
larity  through  the  various  communities.  Nothing, 
however,  tended  so  much,  although  they  might  appear 
to  exacerbate  and  perpetuate  diversities  of  opinion,  to 
the  maintenance  of  this  unity,  as  the  assemblage  and 
recognition  of  general  councils  as  the  representatives 
of  universal  Christendom.^     The  bold  impersonation, 

1  The  earliest  councils  (not.  fficumenic)  were  those  of  Rome  (first  and 
second)  and  the  seven  held  at  Carthage,  concerning  the  lapsi,  the  schism 
of  Novatianus,  and  the  rebaptizing  of  heretics.  The  seventh  in  Routh, 
Reliquiae  Sacrae  (Labbe,  Concilia  III.),  is  the  first  of  which  we  have  any- 
thing like  a  report;  and  from  this  time,  either  from  the  canons  which  they 
issue,  or  the  opinions  delivered  by  the  bishops,  the  councils  prove  important 
authorities,  not  merely  for  the  decrees  of  the  Church,  but  for  the  dominant 
tone  of  sentiment,  and  even  of  manners.  Abhorrence  of  heresy  is  the  pre- 
vailing feeling  in  this  coimcil,  which  decided  the  validity  of  heretical  bap- 
tism. "Christ,"  says  one  bishop,  "founded  the  Church;  the  Devil,  heresy. 
How  can  the  synagogue  of  Satan  administer  the  baptism  of  the  Church?  " 
Another  subjoins,  "  He  who  yields  or  betrays  the  baptism  of  the  Church  to 
heretics,  what  is  he  but  a  Judas  of  the  spouse  of  Christ?  "  The  Synod  or 
Council  of  Antioch  (A.D.  269)  condemned  Paul  of  Samosata.  The  Council 
of  lUiberis  (Elvira,  or  Granada),  A.D.  303,  affords  some  curious  notices  of  the 
state  of  Christianity  in  that  remote  province.  Some  of  the  Heathen  flamines 
appear  to  have  attempted  to  reconcile  the  performances  of  some  of  their  reli- 
gious duties,  at  least  their  presiding  at  the  games,  with  Christianity.  There 
are  many  moral  regulations  which  do  not  give  a  high  idea  of  Spanish  virtue. 
The  bishops  and  clerg)'- were  not  to  be  itinerant  traders;  they  might  trade 
within  the  province  (can.  xviii.),  but  were  on  no  account  to  take  upon  usury. 
The  Jews  were  settled  in  great  numbers  in  Spain  (compare  Hist,  of  the 
Jews):  the  taking  food  with  them  is  interdicted,  as  also  to  permit  them  to 
reap  the  harvest.  Gambling  is  forbidden.  The  Councils  of  Rome  and  of 
Aries  were  held  to  settle  the  Donatist  controversy ;  but  of  the  latter  there  are 
twenty-two  canons,  chiefly  of  ecclesiastical  regidations.  The  Council  of  An- 
cyra  (A.D.  358)  principally  relates  to  the  conduct  of  persons  during  the  time 
of  persecution.  The  Council  of  Laodicea  (A.D.  368)  has  some  curious  general 
canons.  The  first  CEcumenic  council  was  that  of  Nicaea.  See  book  iii.  c.  iv. 
It  was  followed  by  the  long  succession  of  Arian  and  anti-Arian  councils,  at 


Chap.  I.  THE  CHURCH  A  POWER.  273 

the  Church,  seemed  now  to  assume  a  more  imposing 
\dsible  existence.  Its  vital  principle  was  no  General 
longer  that  unseen  and  hidden  harmony  '^o^'iciis. 
which  had  united  the  Christians  in  all  parts  of  the 
world  with  their  Saviour  and  with  each  other.  By 
the  assistance  of  the  orthodox  emperors,  and  the  com- 
manding abilities  of  its  great  defenders,  one  dominant 
form  of  doctrine  had  obtained  the  ascendency ;  Gnos- 
ticism, Donatism,  Arianism,  Manicheism,  had  been 
thrown  aside ;  and  the  Church  stood,  as  it  were,  indi- 
vidualized, or  idealized,  by  the  side  of  the  other  social 
impersonation,  the  state.  The  emperor  was  the  sole 
ruler  of  the  latter,  and  at  this  period  the  aristocracy 
of  the  superior  clergy,  at  a  later  the  autocracy  of  the 
pope,  at  least  as  the  representative  of  the  Western 
Church,  became  the  supreme  authority  of  the  former. 
The  hierarchical  power,  from  exemplary,  persuasive, 
amiable,  was  now  authoritative,  commanding,  awful. 
When  Christianity  became  the  most  powerful  religion, 
when  it  became  the  religion  of  the  many,  of  the  em- 
peror, of  the  state,  the  convert  or  the  hereditary 
Christian  had  no  strong  Pagan  party  to  receive  him 
back  into  its  bosom  when  outcast  from  the  Church. 
If  he  ceased  to  believe,  he  no  longer  dared  cease  to 
obey.  No  course  remained  but  prostrate  submission, 
or  the  endurance  of  any  penitential  duty  which  might 
be  enforced  upon  him  ;  and  on  the  penitential  system, 
and  the  power  of  excommunication,  to  which  we  shall 

Tyre,  Antioch,  Rome,  Milan,  Sardica,  Rimini,  &c.  The  Arian  Council  of 
Antioch  is  very  strict  in  its  regulations  for  the  residence  of  the  bishops  and 
the  clergy,  and  their  restriction  of  their  labors  to  their  own  diocese  or  cures 
(A.D.  341).  —  Apud  Labbe,  vol.  ii.  559.  I'he  first  of  Constantinople  was  the 
second  CEcumenic  council  (A.D.  381).  It  re-established  Trinitarianism  as 
the  doctrine  of  the  East ;  it  elevated  the  bishopric  of  Constantinople  into  a 
patriarchate,  to  rank  after  Rome.  The  two  other  (Ecumenic  coaucUs  are  be- 
yond the  bounds  of  the  present  history. 

VOL.  III.  18 


274  THE  STATE  ECLIPSED.  Book  IV. 

revert,  rested  the  unshaken  hierarchical  authority 
over  the  human  soul. 

With  the  power  of  the  clergy  increased  both  those 
Increase  in  othcr  sourccs  of  influencc,  pomp  and  wealth. 
^™^'  Distinctions  in  station  and  in  authority  natu- 

rally lead  to  distinctions  in  manners,  and  those  ad- 
ventitious circumstances  of  dress  and  habits,  which 
designate  different  ranks.  Confederating  upon  equal 
terms,  the  superior  authorities  in  the  Church  began 
to  assume  an  equal  rank  with  those  of  the  state.  In 
the  Christian  city,  the  bishop  became  a  personage  of 
the  highest  importance ;  and  the  clergy,  as  a  kind 
of  subordinate  religious  magistracy,  claimed,  if  a  dif- 
ferent kind,  yet  an  equal  share  of  reverence,  with  the 
civil  authority.  Where  the  civil  magistrate  had  his 
insignia  of  office,  the  natural  respect  of  the  people, 
and  the  desire  of  maintaining  his  official  dignity, 
would  invest  the  religious  functionary  likewise  with 
some  peculiar  symbol  of  his  character.  With  their 
increased  rank  and  estimation,  the  clergy  could  not 
but  assume  a  more  imposing  demeanor ;  and  that 
majesty  in  which  they  were  arrayed  during  the  public 
ceremonial  could  not  be  entirely  thrown  off  when  tliey 
returned  to  ordinary  life.  The  reverence  of  man 
exacts  dignity  from  those  who  are  its  objects.  The 
primitive  apostolic  meanness  of  appearance  and  habit 
was  altogether  unsuited  to  their  altered  position,  as 
equal  in  rank,  more  than  equal  in  real  influence  and 
public  veneration,  to  the  civil  officers  of  the  empire 
or  municipality.  The  consciousness  of  power  will 
affect  the  best-disciplined  minds,  and  the  unavoidable 
knowledge  that  salutary  authority  is  maintained  over 
a  large  mass  of  mankind  by  imposing  manners,  dress, 
and  mode  of  living,  would  reconcile  many  to   that 


Cblvp.  I.  PRIDE  AND  HIBIILITY.  275 

which  otherwise  might  appear  incongruous  to  tlieir 
sacred  character.  There  was,  in  fact,  and  always  has 
been,  among  the  more  pious  clergy,  a  perpetual  con- 
flict between  a  conscientious  sense  of  the  importance 
of  external  dignity,  and  a  desire,  as  conscientious, 
of  retaining  something  of  outward  humility.  The 
monldsh  and  ascetic  waged  implacable  war  against 
that  secular  distinction  which,  if  in  some  cases  eagerly 
assumed  by  pride  and  ambition,  was  forced  upon 
others  by  the  deference,  the  admiration,  the  trembling 
subservience  of  mankind.  The  prelate  who  looked 
the  most  imperious,  and  spoke  most  sternly,  on  his 
throne,  fasted  and  underwent  the  most  humiliating 
privations  in  his  chamber  or  his  cell.  Some  prelates 
supposed,  that  as  ambassadors  of  the  Most  High,  as 
supreme  governors  in  that  which  was  of  greater 
dignity  than  the  secular  empire,  the  earthly  kingdom 
of  Christ,  they  ought  to  array  themselves  in  something 
of  imposing  dignity.  The  bishops  of  Eome  early 
affected  state  and  magnificence.  Chrysostom,  on  the 
other  hand,  in  Constantinople,  differing  from  his  pre- 
decessors, considered  poverty  of  dress,  humility  of 
demeanor,  and  the  most  severe  austerity  of  life,  as 
more  becoming  a  Christian  prelate,  who  was  to  set  the 
example  of  the  virtues  which  he  inculcated,  and  to 
show  contempt  for  those  worldly  distinctions  which 
properly  belonged  to  the  ci^al  power.  Others,  among 
whom  was  Ambrose  of  Milan,  while  in  their  own 
persons  and  in  private  they  were  the  plainest,  simplest, 
and  most  austere  of  men,  nevertheless  threw  into  the 
service  of  the  Church  all  that  was  solemn  and  magnifi- 
cent ;  and,  as  officiating  functionaries,  put  on  for  the 
time  the  majesty  of  manner,  the  state  of  attendance, 
the  splendor  of  attire,  which  seemed  to  be  authorized 


276  WEALTH  OF  THE  CLERGY.  Book  IV. 

by  the  gorgeousness  of  dress  and  ceremonial  pomp 
in  the  Old  Testament.^ 

With  the  greater  reverence,  indeed,  peculiar  sanctity 
was  exacted,  and  no  doubt,  in  general,  observed  by  the 
clergy.  They  were  imperatively  required  to  surpass 
the  general  body  of  Christians  in  purity  of  morals, 
and,  perhaps  even  more,  in  all  religious  performances. 
As  the  outward  ceremonial^  fasting,  public  prayer 
during  almost  every  part  of  the  day,  and  the  rest  of 
the  ritual  service,  were  more  completely  incorporated 
with  Christianity,  they  were  expected  to  maintain  the 
public  devotion  by  their  example,  and  to  encourage 
self-denial  by  their  more  rigid  austerity. 

Wealth  as  well  as  pomp  followed  in  the  train  of 
Wealth  of  power.  The  desire  to  command  wealth  (we 
the  clergy,  j^^st  uot  yct  usc  the  iguoblc  term  "  covetous- 
ness  ")  not  merely  stole  imperceptibly  into  intimate  con- 
nection with  religion,  but  appeared  almost  a  part  of 
religion  itself.  The  individual  was  content  to  be  dis- 
interested in  his  own  person ;  the  interest  which  he 

1  The  clerg}'-  were  long  without  any  distinction  of  dress,  except  on  cere- 
monial occasions.  At  the  end  of  the  fourth  century,  it  was  the  custom  for 
them  in  some  churches  to  wear  black.  —  Socr.,  H.  E.  vi.  22.  Jerome,  how- 
ever, recommends  that  they  should  neither  be  distinguished  by  too  bright  nor 
too  sombre  colors.  —  Ad  Nepot.  The  proper  habits  were  probably  introduced 
at  the  end  of  the  fifth  century,  as  they  are  recognized  by  councils  in  the 
sixth.  —  Cone.  Matisc.  A.D.  581 ;  can.  1.  5 ;  Trull,  c.  27.  The  tonsure  began 
in  the  fourth  century.  "  Prima  del  iv.  secolo  i  semplici  preti  non  avevano 
alcun  abito  distinto  dagli  altri  o  Pagani  o  Christiani,  se  non  in  quanto  la  pro 
fessata  loro  umilta  faceva  una  certa  porapa  di  abjezione  e  di  poverta."  — 
Cicognara,  Storia  di  Scultura,  t.  i.  p.  27.  Count  Cicognara  gives  a  curious 
account  of  the  date  and  origin  of  the  different  parts  of  the  clerical  dress. 
The  mitre  is  of  the  eighth  century;  the  tiara,  of  the  tenth. 

The  fourth  Council  of  Carthage  (A.D.  398)  has  some  restrictions  on  dress. 
The  clericus  was  not  to  wear  long  hair  or  beard  ("nee  comam  habeat  nee 
barbam."  —  Can.  xliv.);  he  was  to  approve  his  profession  by  his  dress  and 
walk,  and  not  to  study  the  beauty  of  his  dress  or  sandals.  He  might  obtain 
his  sustenance  by  working  as  an  artisan,  or  in  agriculture,  provided  he  did 
not  neglect  his  duty.  —  Can.  li.,  lii. 


Chap.  I.  USES   TO  WHICH  IT   WAS   APPLIED.  277 

felt  in  the  opulence  of  the  Church,  or  even  of  his  own 
order,  appeared  not  merely  excusable,  but  a  sacred 
duty.  In  the  hands  of  the  Christian  clergy,  wealth, 
which  seemed  at  that  period  to  be  lavished  on  the 
basest  of  mankind,  and  squandered  on  the  most  crim- 
inal and  ignominious  objects,  might  seem  to  be  hal- 
lowed to  the  noblest  purposes.  It  enabled  Christianity 
to  vie  with  Paganism  in  erecting  splendid  edifices  for 
the  worship  of  God,  to  provide  an  imposing  ceremonial, 
lamps  for  midnight  service,  silver  or  golden  vessels 
for  the  altar,  veils,  hangings,  and  priestly  dresses ;  it 
provided  for  the  wants  of  the  poor,  whom  uses  to 
misgovernment,  war,  and  taxation,  independ-  \vasVpiied. 
ent  of  the  ordinary  calamities  of  human  life,  were 
grinding  to  the  earth.  To  each  church  were  attached 
numbers  of  widows  and  other  destitute  persons ;  the 
redemption  of  slaves  was  an  object  on  which  the  riches 
of  the  Church  were  freely  lavished :  the  sick  in  the 
hospitals  and  prisons,  and  destitute  strangers,  were 
under  their  especial  care.  "  How  many  captives  has 
the  wealth  of  the  Pagan  establishment  released  from 
bondage?"  This  is  among  the  triumphant  questions 
of  the  advocates  of  Christianity.^  The  maintenance  of 
children  exposed  by  their  parents,  and  taken  up 
and  educated  by  the  Christians,  was  another  source 
of  generous  expenditure.  When,  then,  at  first  the 
munificence  of  the  emperor,  and  afterwards  the  grat- 
itude and  superstitious  fears  of  the  people,  heaped  up 
their  costly  offerings  at  the  feet  of  the  clergy,  it  would 
have  appeared,  not  merely  ingratitude  and  folly,  but 
impiety  and  uncharitableness  to  their  brethren,  to 
have  rejected  them.  The  clergy,  as  soon  as  they  were 
set  apart  from  the  ordinary  business  of  life,  were  main- 

1  Ambros.  contra  Symmachum. 


278  CHKISTIANITY  ASCENDANT.  Book  IV. 

tained  by  the  voluntary  offerings  of  their  brethren. 
The  piety  which  embraced  Christianity  never  failed  in 
liberality.  The  payments  seem  chiefly  to  have  been 
made  in  kind  rather  than  in  money ;  though  on  ex- 
traordinary occasions  large  sums  were  raised  for  some 
gacred  or  charitable  object.  One  of  the  earliest  acts 
of  Constantino  was  to  make  munificent  grants  to  the 
despoiled  and  destitute  Church.^  A  certain  portion  of 
the  public  stores  of  corn  and  other  produce,  which 
was  received  in  kind  by  the  officers  of  the  revenue,  was 
assigned  to  the  Church  and  clergy.^  This  was  with- 
drawn by  Julian,  and,  when  regranted  by  the  Christian 
emperors,  was  diminished  one-third. 

The  law  of  Constantino  which  empowered  the  clergy 
Law  of  Con-  ^^  ^^^®  Cliurcli  to  rcccive  testamentary  be- 
^o^werinXe  Q^^sts,  aud  to  hold  land,  was  a  gift  which 
re'iehJeVe^-  would  scarccly  have  been  exceeded  if  he  had 
quests.  granted  them  two  provinces  of  the  empire.^ 
It  became  almost  a  sin  to  die  without  some  bequest  to 
pious  uses  ;  and  before  a  century  had  elapsed,  the  mass 
of  property  which  had  passed  over  to  the  Church  was 
so  enormous,  that  the  most  pious  of  the  emperors 
were  obliged  to  issue  a  restrictive  law,  which  the  most 
ardent  of  the  Fathers  were  constrained  to  approve. 
Jerome  acknowledges,  with  the  bitterness  of  shame, 
Restrictive  thc  ncccssity  of  this  check  on  ecclesiastical 
lentiidan. '     avarlcc.^     "  I  complaiu  not  of  the  law,  but 

1  Euseb.,  H.  E.  x.  6.  2  Sozomen,  H.  E.  v.  5. 

3  This  is  the  observation  of  Planck. 

4  Valentinian  11.  de  Episc.  "  Solis  clericis  et  monachis  hac  lege  prohibe- 
tur,  et  prohibetm-  non  a  persecutoribus  sed  a  principibus  Christianis;  nee  de 
lege  conqueror,  sed  doleo  cur  meruerimus  banc  legem."  —  Hieronym.  ad 
Nepot.  lie  speaks  also  of  the  "  provida  severaque  legis  cautio,  et  tamen  non 
sic  refrajnatur  avaritia."  Ambrose  (1.  ii.  adv.  Symm.)  admits  the  necessity 
of  the  law.  Augustine,  while  he  loftily  disclaims  all  participation  in  such 
abuses,  acknowledges  their  frequency.    "  Quicunque  vult,  exhseredato  filio 


Chap.  L  RIVAL  POPES.  279 

that  we  have  deserved  such  a  law."  The  ascetic 
father  and  the  Pagan  historian  describe  the  pomp  and 
avarice  of  the  Roman  clergy  in  the  fourth  century. 
Ammianus,  while  he  describes  the  sanguinary  feud 
which  took  place  for  the  prelacy  between  popeD^. 
Damasus  and  Ursicinus,  intimates  that  the  °^^^'^^' 
magnificence  of  the  prize  may  account  for  the  obsti- 
nacy and  ferocity  with  which  it  was  contested.  He 
dwells  on  the  prodigal  offerings  of  the  Roman  matrons 
to  their  bishop ;  his  pomp,  when,  in  elaborate  and 
elegant  attire,  he  was  borne  in  his  chariot  through  the 
admiring  streets ;  the  costly  luxury  of  his  almost  im- 
perial banquets.  But  the  just  historian  contrasts 
this  pride  and  luxury  of  the  Roman  pontiff  with  the 
more  temperate  life  and  dignified  humility  of  the  pro- 
vincial bishops.^  Jerome  goes  on  sternly  to  cliarge 
the  whole  Roman  clergy  with  the  old  vice  of  the 
Heathen  aristocracy,  haeredipety  or  legacy-hunting, 
and  asserts  that  they  used  the  holy  and  venerable 
name  of  the  Church  to  extort  for  their  own  personal 
emolument,  the  wealth  of  timid  or  expiring  devotees. 
The  law  of  Yalentinian  justly  withheld  from  the  clergy 
and  the  monks  alone  that  privilege  of  receiving  be- 
quests which  was  permitted  to  the  "  lowest  of  mankind, 
Heathen  priests,  actors,  charioteers  and  harlots." 

Large  parts  of  the  ecclesiastical  revenues,  however, 
arose  from  more  honorable  sources.  Some  of  the 
estates  of  the  Heathen  temples,  though  in  general  con- 
fiscated to  the  imperial  treasury,  were  alienated  to  the 
Christian  churches.  The  Church  of  Alexandria  ob- 
tained the  revenue  of  the  Temple  of  Serapis.^ 

hseredem  facere  ecclesiam,  quaerat  alterum  qui  suscipiat,  uon  Augustinum, 
hnmo,  Deo  propitio,  iiiveniat  neminem.'"  —  Serm.  49. 

1  Amm.  Marcellinus,  xxvii.  3. 

2  Sozomen,  v.  7.    The  Church  of  Antioch  possessed  lands,  houses,  rents, 


280  CHURCH  PROPERTY.  Book  iV. 

These  various  estates  and  properties  belonged  to  the 
Church  in  its  corporate  capacity,  not  to  the  clergy. 
A  lication  They  were  charged  with  the  maintenance  of 
of  the  "^^""^^^  the  fabric  of  the  Church,  and  the  various 
Church.  charitable  purposes,  including  the  sustenance 
of  their  own  dependent  poor.  Strong  enactments  were 
made  to  prevent  their  alienation  from  those  hallowed 
purposes,^  the  clergy  were  even  restrained  from  be- 
queathing by  will  what  they  had  obtained  from  the 
property  of  the  Church.  The  estates  of  the  Church 
were  liable  to  the  ordinary  taxes,  the  land  and  capita- 
tion tax,  but  exempt  from  what  were  called  sordid 
and  extraordinary  charges,  and  from  the  quartering 
of  troops.^ 

The  bishops  gradually  obtained  almost  the  exclu- 
sive management  of  this  property.  In  some  churches, 
a  steward  (oeconomus)  presided  over  this  department, 
but  he  would  in  general,  be  virtually  under  the  con- 
trol of  the  bishop.  In  most  churches,  the  triple  divi- 
sion began  to  be  observed ;  one-third  of  the  revenue 
to  the  bishop,  one  to  the  clergy,  the  other  to  the  fabric 
and  the  poor ;  the  Cliurch  of  Rome  added  a  fourth,  a 
separate  portion  for  the  fabric.^ 

carriages,  mules,  and  other  kinds  of  property.  It  undertook  the  daily  suste- 
nance of  three  thousand  Avidows  and  virgins,  besides  prisoners,  the  sick  in 
the  hospitals,  the  maimed,  and  the  diseased,  who  sat  down,  as  it  were  before 
the  Christian  altar,  and  received  food  and  raiment,  besides  many  other  acci- 
dental claims  on  their  benevolence.  —  Chrysostom,  Oper.  Montfaucon,  in  his 
dissertation,  gives  the  references. 

1  Cone.  Carth.  iii.  40;  Antioch,  24.  Constit.  Apost.  40.  Cod.  Theodos. 
de  Episc.  et  Clericis,  t.  33. 

2  Planck,  P.  iii.  c.  vi.,  iii. 

8  By  a  law  of  Theodosius  and  Valent.  A.D.  434,  the  property  of  any 
bishop,  presbyter,  deacon,  deaconess,  sub-deacon,  &c.,  or  of  any  monk,  who 
died  intestate,  and  without  legal  heirs,  fell,  not  to  the  treasury,  as  in  ordinary 
cases,  but  to  the  church  or  monastery  to  which  he  belonged.  The  same 
privilege  was  granted  to  the  Corporation  of  Decurions.  —  Codex  Theodos. 
V.  iii.  1. 


Chap.  I.        CELIBACY  OF  THE  CLERGY.  281 

The  clergy  had  become  a  separate  community  ;  they 
had  their  own  laws  of  internal  government,  their  own 
special  regulations,  or  recognized  proprieties  of  life 
and  conduct.  Their  social  delinquencies  were  not  as 
yet  withdrawn  from  the  civil  jurisdiction ;  but,  besides 
this,  they  were  amenable  to  the  severe  judgments  of 
ecclesiastical  censure ;  ^  the  lowest  were  liable  to  cor- 
poral chastisement.  Flagellation,  which  was  adminis- 
tered in  the  synagogue,  and  was  so  common  in  Roman 
society,  was  by  nO  means  so  disgraceful  as  to  exempt 
the  persons  at  least  of  the  inferior  clergy  from  its 
infliction.2  But  the  more  serious  punishment  was 
degradation  into  the  vulgar  class  of  worshippers.  To 
them  it  was  the  most  fearful  condemnation  to  be  ejected 
from  the  inner  sanctuary  and  thrust  down  from  their 
elevated  station.^ 

As  yet  the  clergy  were  not  entirely  estranged  from 
society  ;  they  had  not  become  a  caste  by  the  ^^^^^     ^^ 
legal  enforcement  or  general  practice  of  ce-  ^^^^^ergy. 
libacy.     Clement  of  Alexandria  asserts  and  vindicates 
the  marriage  of  some  of  the  apostles.^     The  discreet 

1  Sozomen  states  that  Constantine  gave  his  clergy  the  privilege  of  reject- 
ing the  jurisdiction  of  the  civil  tribunal,  and  bringing  their  causes  to  the 
bishop.  —  H.  E.  i.  9.  But  these  were  probably  disputes  between  clergyman 
and  clergyman.  All  others  Avere  cases  of  arbitration,  by  mutual  agreement; 
but  the  civil  power  was  to  ratify  their  decree.  In  a  Novella  of  Valenti- 
nian  II.,  A.D.  452,  it  is  expressly  said,  "  Quoniam  constat  episcopos  et  pres- 
byteros  forum  legibus  non  habere  .  .  .  nee  de  aliis  causis  praeter  religionem 
posse  cognoscere."  Compare  Planck,  p.  300.  The  clericus  was  bound  to 
appear,  if  summoned  by  a  layman,  before  the  ordinary  judge.  Justinian 
made  the  change,  aud  that  only  in  a  limited  manner. 

2  Bishops  Avere  accustomed  to  order  flagellations.  "  Qui  modus  coerci- 
tionis,  a  magistris  artium  liberalium,  et  ab  ipsis  parentibus,  et  sa?pe  in  judi- 
ciis  solet  ab  Episcopis  adhiberi."  —  Augustin.  Epist.  cxxxiii.  High  authority 
for  the  antiquity  of  flogging  in  public  schools ! 

3  The  decrees  of  the  fourth  council  of  Carthage  show  the  strict  mcrals  and 
humble  subordination  demanded  of  the  clergy  at  the  close  of  the  fourth 
century. 

^  "H  Kol  Toijg  'ATToaroAovf  uTzodoKiiiu^ovai. ;  Herpog  fiev  yap  Kol   ^ikiTZ- 


282  CELIBACY  OF  THE  CLERGY.  Book  IV. 

remonstrance  of  the  old  Egyptian  bishop  perhaps  pre- 
vented the  Council  of  Nicaea  from  imposing  that  heavy 
burden  on  the  reluctant  clergy.  The  aged  Paphiiutius, 
himself  unmarried,  boldly  asserted  that  the  conjugal 
union  was  chastity.^  But  that  which,  in  the  third 
century,  is  asserted  to  be  free  to  all  mankind,  clergy  as 
well  as  laity,  in  Egypt ;  ^  in  the  fourth,  according  to 
Jerome,  was  prohibited  or  limited  by  vows  of  conti- 
nence. It  has  been  asserted,*^  and  without  refutation, 
that  there  was  no  ecclesiastical  law  oi*  regulation  which 
compelled  the  celibacy  of  the  clergy  for  the  first  three 
centuries.  Clement  of  Alexandria,  as  we  see,  argues 
against  enforced  celibacy  from  the  example  of  the 
Apostles.  Married  bishops  and  presbyters  frequently 
occur  in  tlie  history  of  Eusebius.  The  martyrdom  of 
Numidicus  was  shared  and  not  dishonored  by  the  com- 
panionship of  his  wife.^  It  was  a  sight  of  joy  and 
consolation  to  the  husband  to  see  her  perishing  in  the 
same  flames.  The  wives  of  the  clergy  are  recognized, 
not  merely  in  the  older  writings,  but  also  in  the  pub- 
lic documents  of  the  Cliurch.^     Council  after  council, 

TTog  eTcaidoTTOiTjaavTO.  ^iTiCmrog  6e  Kal  rug  ■dvyaripag  avdpaacv  e^idcjK&v, 
Kal  oye  IlavTiog  ovk  okvel  h>  rcvt  eTTtarol?)  t^v  avrov  npooayopevetv  avi^v- 
yov,  Tjv  ov  TTspLeKOjit^ev  Stu  to  ttjq  VTvrjpealag  evaraMg.  —  Strom.  1.  lii.  c.  6. 
On  the  question  of  the  marriage  of  the  apostles  and  their  immediate  tbllow- 
ers,  almost  every  thing  is  collected  in  a  note  of  Cotelerius,  Patres  Apostolici, 
ii.  241. 

1  Gelasii  Histor.  Cone.  Nic.  c.  xxxii.  Socrat.  i.  11.  Sozomeu,  i.  23. 
Baronius  insists  upon  this  being  Greek  fable. 

2  Nat  jiTjv  Kai  TQv  TTJg  fitug  yvvauiog  uvSpa  navi)  aTrodex^rai  kuv  Trpea- 
QvTSQog  7j,  KUV  didaovog,  kuv  XacKog,  uveKtXijirTug  yufxc,)  xp(^f-£^'og.  'Li^Orjae- 
rai  6e  6iu  Trjg  reKvoyoviag.  —  Strom,  iii.  12,  9. 

3  By  Bingham,  book  iv. 

*  "  Numidicus  presbyter  uxorem  adhaerentem  lateri  suo,  concrematam  cum 
caeteris,  vel  conservatam  potius  dixerim,  hctus  aspexit."  —  Cyprian,  p.  525. 
See  in  Basnage,  Dissertatio  Septima,  a  list  of  married  prelates. 

6  Cone.  Gang.  c.  4;  Cone.  Ancyr.  c.  10.  This  law  allows  any  deacoa 
to  marry. 


Chap.  I.  EISE  OF   CLERICAL  CELIBACY.  283 

in  the  East,  introduced  regulations,  which,  though  in- 
tended to  restrict,  recognize  the  legality  of  these  ties.^ 
Highly  as  they  exalt  the  angelic  state  of  celibacy, 
neither  Basil  in  the  East,  nor  Augustine  in  the  West, 
positively  prohibits  the  marriage  of  the  clergy.^ 

But  in  the  fourth  century,  particularly  in  the  latter 
half,  the  concurrent  influence  of  the  higher  honors 
attributed  to  virginity  by  all  the  great  Christian  wri- 
ters ;  of  the  hierarchical  spirit,  which,  even  at  that 
time,  saw  how  much  of  its  corporate  strength  depended 
on  this  entire  detachment  from  worldly  ties ;  of  the 
monastic  system,  which  worked  into  the  clerical,  partly 
by  the  frequent  selection  of  monks  for  ordination  and 
for  consecration  to  ecclesiastical  dignities,  partly  by 
the  emulation  of  the  clergy,  who  could  not  safely 
allow  themselves  to  be  outdone  in  austerity  by  these 
rivals  for  popular  estimation ;  all  these  various  influ- 
ences introduced  restrictions  and  regulations  on  the 
marriage  of  the  clergy,  which  darkened  at  length  into 
the  solemn  ecclesiastical  interdict.  First,  the  general 
sentiment  repudiated  a  second  marriage  as  a  mon- 
strous act  of  incontinence,  an  infirmity  or  a  sin  which 
ought  to  prevent  the  Christian  from  ever  aspiring  to 
any  ecclesiastical   office.^     The   next   offence   against 

1  In  the  West,  the  Council  of  Elvira  commands  the  clergy  to  abstain 
from  connubial  intercourse  and  the  procreation  of  children.  —  Can.  xxxiii. 
This  was  frequently  re-enacted.  Among  others,  Cone.  Carthag.  v.  2 ;  Labbe, 
ii.  1216. 

'^  Basil  speaks  of  a  presbyter  who  had  contumaciously  contracted  an 
unlawful  marriage.  —  Can.  ii.  c.  27.  On  Augustine,  compare  Theiner, 
p.  154 

3  Athenagoras  laid  down  the  general  principle,  6  jup  devrepoc  {ydfj-og) 
evTrpeivrjg  egtl  ^lOLxda.  —  De  Resurr.  Carn.  Compare  Orig.  contr.  Cels.  vii., 
and  Horn,  vi.,  in  Num.  xviii.,  in  Luc.  xviii.,  in  Matt.  Tertull.  ad  Uxor.  1-5. 
This  was  almost  an  universal  moral  axiom.  Epiphanius  said,  that,  since  the 
coming  of  Christ,  no  digamous  clergyman  had  ever  been  ordained.  Barbey- 
rac  has  collected  the  passages  of  the  Fathers  expressive  of  their  abhorrence 


284  RISE  OF  CLERICAL  CELIBACY.  Book  IV. 

the  general  feeling  was  marriage  with  a  widow ;  then 
followed  the  restriction  of  marriage  after  entering  into 
holy  orders :  the  married  priest  retained  his  wife,  but 
to  condescend  to  such  carnal  ties  after  ordination  was 
revolting  to  the  general  sentiment,  and  was  considered 
to  imply  a  total  want  of  feeling  for  the  dignity  of  their 
high  calling.  Then  was  generally  introduced  a  de- 
mand of  abstinence  from  sexual  connection  from  those 
who  retained  their  wives :  this  was  imperatively  re- 
quired from  the  higher  orders  of  the  clergy.  It  was 
considered  to  render  unclean,  and  to  disqualify  even 
from  prayer  for  the  people,  as  the  priest's  life  was  to 
be  a  perpetual  prayer.^  Not  that  there  was  as  yet  any 
uniform  practice.  The  bishops  assembled  at  the  Coun- 
cil of  Gangra^  condemned  the  followers  of  Eustathius, 
who  refused  to  receive  the  sacraments  from  any  but 
unmarried  priests.  The  heresy  of  Jovinian,  on  the 
other  hand,  probably  called  forth  the  severe  regula- 
tions of  Pope  Siricius.^  This  sort  of  encyclical  letter 
positively  prohibited  all  clergy  of  the  higher  orders 
from  any  intercourse  with  their  wives.  A  man  who 
lived  to  the  age  of  thirty,  the  husband  of  one  wife, 
that  wife,  when  married,  a  virgin,  might  be  an  acolyth 

of  second  marriages.  —  Morale  des  Pferes,  pp.  1,  29,  34,  37,  &c.  The  Couucil 
of  Neo-Cffisarea  forbade  clergymen  to  be  present  at  a  feast  for  a  second  mar- 
riage :  7rpea(3vTepov  elg  yu/j.ovg  dLyafiovvTcov  firj  eGnuadat.  —  Can.  vii. 

1  Such  is  the  distinct  language  of  Jerome:  "  Si  laicus  et  quicunque  fidelis 
orare  non  potest  nisi  careat  officio  conjugali,  sacerdoti,  cui  semper  pro  populo 
offerenda  sunt  sacrificia  semper  orandum  est.  Si  semper  orandum  est,  sem- 
per carendum  matrimonio."  —  Adv.  Jovin.  p.  175. 

2  In  the  Council  of  Gangra  (about  350),  the  preamble  and  the  tirst  canon 
do  not  appear  to  refer  necessarily  to  the  wives  of  the  clergy.  They  anathe- 
matize certain  teachers  (the  Eustathians)  Avho  had  blamed  marriage,  and 
said  that  a  faithful  and  pious  woman  Avho  slept  with  her  husband  could  not 
enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  A  sacred  virgin  is  prohibited  from 
vaunting  over  a  married  woman.  —  Canon  x.  Women  are  forbidden  to 
abandon  their  husbands  and  children. 

8  The  letter  of  Siricius  in  Mansi  Concil.  iii.  635,  A.D.  385. 


Chap.  I.  PROHIBITION   OF   CONJUGAL  RIGHTS.  285 

or  sub-deacon ;  after  five  years  of  strict  continence,  he 
might  be  promoted  to  a  priest ;  after  ten  years  more  of 
the  same  severe  ordeal,  a  bishop.  A  clerk,  any  one  in 
holy  orders,  even  of  the  lowest  degree,  who  married  a 
widow  or  a  second  wife,  was  instantly  deprived:  no 
woman  was  to  live  in  the  house  of  a  clerk. 

The  Council  of  Carthage,  reciting  the  canon  of  a 
former  council,  commands  the  clergy  to  abstain  from 
all  connection  with  their  wives.  The  enactment  is 
perpetually  repeated,  and  in  one  extended  to  sub-dea- 
cons.^ The  Council  of  Toledo  prohibited  the  promo- 
tion of  ecclesiastics  who  had  children.  The  Council 
of  Aries  prohibited  the  ordination  of  a  married  priest,^ 
unless  he  made  a  promise  of  divorce  from  the  married 
state.  Jerome  distinctly  asserts  that  it  was  the  uni- 
versal regulation  of  the  East,  of  Egypt,  and  of  Rome  ^ 
to  ordain  only  those  who  were  unmarried,  or  who 
ceased  to  be  husbands.  But  even  in  the  fourth  and 
the  beginning  of  the  fifth  centuries,  the  prac-  Married 
tice  rebelled  against  this  severe  theory.  Mar-  and  ciergy. 
ried  clergymen,  even  married  bishops,  and  with  chil- 
dren, occur  in  the  ecclesiastical  annals.  Athanasius, 
in  his  letter  to  Dracontius,  admits  and  allows  the  full 
right  of  the  bishop  to  marriage.^  Gregory  of  Nazian- 
zum  was  born  after  his  father  was  bishop,  and  had  a 

1  These  councils  of  Carthage  are  dated  A.D.  390,  418,  and  419. 

2  "  Assumi  aliquem  ad  sacerdotium  non  posse  in  vinculo  sacerdotii  consti 
tutum,  nisi  primum  fuerit  promissa  conversio."  —  A.D.  452. 

3  "  Quid  facient  Orientis  Ecclesise  ?  quid  ^gypti,  et  sedis  Apostolicae,  quae 
aut  virgines  clericos  accipiunt  aut  continentes;  aut  si  uxores  habuerint,  mariti 
esse  desistunt."  —  Adv.  Vigilantium,  p.  281.  Jerome  appeals  to  Jovinian 
himself:  "  Certe  confiteris  non  posse  esse  episcopum  qui  in  episcopatu  filios 
faciat,  alioqui  si  depreheusus  fuerit,  non  quasi  vir  tenebitiir,  sed  quasi  adulter 
damnabitur."  —  Adv.  Jovin.  175.    Compare  Epiphanius,  Hseres.  liv.  4. 

4  Athanasii  Epistola  ad  Dracontium. 


286  THE  CONSEQUENCES.  Book  IV. 

younger  brother  named  Caesarius.^  Gregory  of  Nyssa 
and  Hilary  of  Poictiers  were  married.  Less  distin- 
guished names  frequently  occur,  —  those  of  Spyridou  ^ 
and  Eustathius.^  Synesius,  whose  character  enabled 
him  to  accept  episcopacy  on  his  own  terms,  positively 
repudiated  these  unnatural  restrictions  on  the  freedom 
and  holiness  of  the  conjugal  state.  "  God  and  the 
law,  and  the  holy  hand  of  Theophilus,  bestowed  on  me 
my  wife.  I  declare,  therefore,  solemnly,  and  call  you 
to  witness,  that  I  will  not  be  plucked  from  her,  nor  lie 
with  her  in  secret,  like  an  adulterer.  But  I  hope  and 
pray  that  we  may  have  many  and  virtuous  children."* 

The  Council  in  TruUo  only  demanded  this  high  test 
of  spirituality,  absolute  celibacy,  from  bishops,  and  left 
the  inferior  clergy  to  their  freedom.  But  the  earlier 
Western  Council  of  Toledo  only  admitted  the  deacon, 
and  that  under  restrictions,  to  connubial  intercourse ; 
the  presbyter  who  had  children  after  his  ordination 
could  not  be  a  bishop.^ 

This  overstrained  demand  on  the  virtue,  not  of  indi- 
Moraioonse-  viduals  iu  a  high  state  of  enthusiasm,  but  of 
quences.  ^  wliolc  class  of  mcu  ;  tliis  strife  with  nature, 
in  that  which,  in  its  irregular  and  lawless  indulgence, 
is  the  source  of  so  many  evils  and  of  so  much  misery, 
in  its  more  moderate  and  legal  form  is  the  parent  of 
the  purest  affections  and  the  holiest  charities ;  this 
isolation  from  those  social  ties,  which,  if  at  times  they 
might  withdraw  them  from  total  dedication  to  their 
sacred  duties,  in  general  would,  by  their  tending  to 

1  Gregory  makes  his  father  thus  address  him :  — 

OVTTO)   TOaOVTOV    EK/J.efUTpTJKag'  (3iov 

"Oaof  dtfjTids  ^valcjv  kfiol  XP^^^^C- 

De  Vita  Sua,  v.  512. 

2  Sozora.  i.  11 ;  Socrat.  i.  12.  »  Socrat.  ii.  43. 

*  Synesii  Epist.  105.  ^  Cone.  Tolet.  A.D.  400,  can.  i. 


Chap.  I.  MULIERES    SUBINTRODUCT.E.  287 

soften  and  humanize,  be  the  best  school  for  the  gentle 
and  affectionate  discharge  of  those  duties,  —  the  en- 
forcement of  the  celibacy  of  the  clergy,  though  not  yet 
by  law,  by  dominant  opinion,  was  not  slow  in  produc- 
ing its  inevitable  evils.  Simultaneously  with  Muueressub- 
the  sterner  condemnation  of  marriage,  or  at  '"■^''^"='*- 
least  the  exaggerated  praises  of  chastity,  we  hear  the 
solemn  denunciations  of  the  law,  and  the  deepening 
remonstrances  of  the  more  influential  writers,  against 
those  secret  evasions  by  which  the  clergy  endeavored 
to  obtain  the  fame  without  the  practice  of  celibacy,  to 
enjoy  some  of  the  pleasures  and  advantages  without 
the  crime  of  marriage.  From  the  middle  of  the  third 
century,  in  which  the  growing  aversion  to  the  marriage 
of  the  clergy  begins  to  appear,  we  find  the  "  sub-intro- 
duced" females  constantly  proscribed.^  The  intimate 
union  of  the  priest  with  a  young,  often  a  l^eautiful  fe- 
male, who  still  passed  to  the  world  under  the  name  of 
a  virgin,  and  was  called  by  the  priest  by  the  unsus- 
pected name  of  sister,  seems  from  the  strong  and  reit- 
erated language  of  Jerome ,2  Gregory  Nazianzen,  Chry- 

1  They  are  mentioned  in  the  letter  of  the  bishops  of  Antioch,  against  Paul 
of  Samosata.  The  Council  of  Illiberis  (incautiously)  allowed  a  sister,  or  a 
virgin,  dedicated  to  God,  to  reside  with  a  bishop  or  presbyter,  not  a  stranger. 

2  "  Unde  sine  nuptiis  aliud  nomen  uxorum  ?  Imo  unde  novum  concubi- 
narum  genus '?  Plus  inferam.  Unde  meretrices  univirae  V  Eadem  domo,  uno 
cubiculo,  sfepe  uno  tenentur  et  lectulo.  Et  suspiciosos  nos  vocant,  si  aliquid 
existimamus.  Frater  sororera  virginem  deserit:  ciielibem  spernit  virgo 
germanum:  fratrem  quserit  extraneum,  et  cum  in  eodem  proposito  esse  se 
simulent  qusrunt  alienorum  spiritale  solatium,  ut  domi  habeant  carnale 
commercium."  —  Hieronym.  Epist.  xxii.  ad  Eustochium.  If  the  vehemence 
of  Jerome's  language  betrays  his  own  ardent'character  and  his  monkish  hos- 
tility to  the  clergy,  the  general  charge  is  amply  borne  out  by  other  writers. 
Many  quotations  may  be  found  in  Gothofred's  Note  on  the  Law  of  Honorius. 
Gregory  of  Nazianzum  says,  ^Apaeva  TcavT'  aleuve,  avveiaaKTOv  te  ftuTaaTa. 
The  language  of  Cyprian,  however,  even  in  the  third  century,  is  the  strongest: 
"  Cert6  ipse  concubitus,  ipse  amplexus,  ipsa  confabulatio,  et  inosculatio,  et 
conjacentium  dnorum  turpis  et  fceda  dormitio  quantum  dedecoris  et  criminis 


288  DEGENERATION  OK   MORALS.  Book  IV. 

sostom,  and  others,  to  have  been  almost  general.  It 
was  interdicted  by  an  imperial  lavv.^ 

Tims  in  every  city,  in  almost  every  town  and  every 
village,  of  the  Roman  empire,  luid  established  itself  a 
new  permanent  magistracy,  in  a  certain  sense  independ- 
ent of  the  government,  with  considcriibhj  inalienable 
cn(h)wments,  and  filled  by  men  of  a  pecnliiir  and  sacred 
character,  and  recognized  by  ihi3  State.  Their  authoi'ity 
extended  far  beyond  their  jni-isdiction  ;  their  inllnence, 
far  beyond  their  anthority.  The  internal  organization 
was  complete.  The  three  great  patriarchs  in  the  East, 
throughout  the  West  the  Bishop  of  Rome,  exercised  a 
supreme,  and,  in  some  points,  an  a})pellant  jurisdiction. 
Great  ecclesiastical  causes  could  be  removed  to  their 
tribunal.  Under  them,  the  metropolitans,  and  in  the 
next  rank  the  bishops,  governed  their  dioceses,  and 
ruled  the  subordinate  clergy,  who  now  began  to  form 
parishes,  separate  districts  to  which  their  labors  were 
to  be  confined.  In  the  superior  clergy  had  gradually 
become  vested,  not  the  ordination  only,  but  the  appoint- 
ment, of  the  inferior  ;  these  could  not  quit  the  diocese 
without  letters  from  the  bisho}),  or  be  received  or  exer- 
cise their  functions  in  another,  Avithout  permission. 

On  the  incorporation  of  the  Church  with  the  State,  the 
co-ordinate  civil  and  religious  magistracy  maintained 

confitetur."  Cyprian  justly  observes,  that  such  intimacy  would  induce  a 
jealous  husband  to  take  to  his  sword  — Epist.  Ixii.  ad  I'oniponium. 

But  the  canon  of  the  Council  of  Nicjca,  which  prohibits  the  usaj^e,  and 
forbids  the  priest  to  have  a  subintroducta  niulier,  unless  a  mother,  sister,  or 
aunt,  the  only  relationships  beyond  suspicion,  and  the  still  stron^^or  tone  of 
the  law,  show  (he  frequency,  as  well  as  the  evil,  of  the  practice.  Unhappily, 
they  were  blind  to  its  real  cause. 

1  "Kum  (jui  probabilem  sa'culo  discipliiiam  agit  dccolorari  consortio  soro- 
riiD  appcUationis  non  decet."  But  this  law  of  llonorius  (A.D.  420)  allowed 
tlie  clergy  to  retain  their  wives,  if  they  had  been  married  before  entering-  into 
orders.  See,  too,  the  third  and  fourth  canons  of  the  Council  of  Carthage, 
A.D.  848. 


CiiAi'.  I.  CHURCH    AND   STATK.  289 

eacli  its  scpai-ato  powcj.s.     On  one  side,  as  far  as  lljo 
actual  celebration  of  the  ecclesiastical  cere-    iini"nor 

(;ijiircli 

menial,  and  in  their  own  internal  affairs  in  i^naHuu-.. 
general ;  on  the  other,  in  the  administration  of  tlie  mili- 
tary, judicial,  and  fiscal  affairs  of  the  State,  tlie  bounds 
of  their  respective  autliority  were  clear  and  distinct.  As 
a  citizen  and  subject,  the  Christian,  tlie  priest,  and  the 
bishop  were  alike  amenable  to  the  laws  of  tiie  empire 
and  to  the  imperial  decrees,  and  liable  to  taxation,  un- 
less specially  exempted,  for  tiie  scirviee  of  tlie  HtateJ 
TJie  Christian  statesman,  on  the  otlier  hand,  of  the 
highest  rank,  was  amenable  to  the  ecclesiastical  cen- 
sures, and  was  bound  to  submit  to  tlie  canons  of  the 
Churcli  in  matters  of  faith  and  discipline,  and  was  en- 
tirely dependent  on  their  jiid^iinent  for  his  admission 
or  rejection  from  the  pjivileges  or  hopes  of  tiie  Chris- 
tian. 

►So  far  the  theory  was  distinct  and  perfect;  each  had 
his  separate  and  exclusive  sphere ;  yet  there  could  not 
but  appear  a  debatable  ground  on  which  the  two 
authorities  came  into  collision,  and  neither  could  alto- 
gether refrahi  from  invading  the  teriitory  of  his  ally  or 
antagonist. 

Tlie  treaty  between  the  contracting  parties  was,  iu 
fact,  formed  with  such  liaste  and  precipitancy,  unumoftiie 

'  Church  and 

that  the  rights  of  neither  party  could  be  de-  t»j«  «t^t«- 
fined  or  secured.     Eager  for  immediate  union,  and 

1  Th(;  law  of  Constantiufl,  which  appears  to  withdraw  thf;  bishops  critin;! y 
from  the  civil  jurisdiction,  and  to  give  the  privilege  of  being  tried  upon  all 
charges  by  a  tribunal  of  bishops,  is  justly  considered  by  Gothofred  as  a  local 
or  tem[K»rary  act,  probably  connected  with  the  feuds  concerning  Arianism. — 
Cod.  Theod.  xvi.  2,  12,  w^ith  Gothofred's  not<;.  Valens  sithri'itU-A  the  ecclesi- 
a«tical  courts  to  settle  religious  difHculties  and  slight  offences.  —  xvi.  2,  23. 
The  same  is  the  scope  of  the  more  explicit  law  of  Honorius.  —  xvi.  2,  201. 
The  immunity  of  the  clergy  from  the  civil  courts  was  of  vnry  much  later 
date. 

VOL.  Ui.  19 


290  CHURCH  AND   STATE.  B(jok  iV. 

impatient  of  delay,  they  framed  no  deed  of  settlement, 
by  which,  when  their  mutual  interests  should  be  less 
identified,  and  jealousy  and  estrangement  should  arise, 
they  might  assert  their  respective  rights,  and  enforce 
their  several  duties. 

In  ecclesiastical  affairs,  strictly  so  called,  the  suprem- 
acy of  the  Christian  magistracy,  it  has  been  said,  was 
admitted.  They  were  the  legislators  of  discipline, 
order,  and  doctrine.  The  festivals,  the  fasts,  the  usa- 
ges and  canons  of  the  Church,  the  government  of  the 
clergy,  were  in  their  exclusive  power.  The  decrees  of 
particular  synods  and  councils  possessed  undisputed 
authority,  as  far  as  their  sphere  extended.  General 
councils  were  held  binding  on  the  whole  Church.  But 
it  was  far  more  easy  to  define  that  which  did  belong  to 
the  province  of  the  Church  than  that  which  did  not. 
Religion  asserts  its  authority,  and  endeavors  to  extend 
its  influence  over  the  whole  sphere  of  moral  action, 
which  is,  in  fact,  over  the  whole  of  human  life,  its  hab- 
its, manners,  conduct.  Christianity,  as  the  most  pro- 
found moral  religion,  exacted  the  most  complete  and 
universal  obedience  ;  and,  as  the  acknowledged  teachers 
and  guardians  of  Christianity,  the  clergy  continvied  to 
draw  within  their  sphere  every  part  of  human  life  in 
which  man  is  actuated  by  moral  or  religious  motives. 
The  moral  authority,  therefore,  of  the  religion,  and 
consequently  of  the  clergy,  might  appear  legitimately 
to  extend  over  every  transaction  of  life,  from  the  legis- 
lature of  the  sovereign,  which  ought,  in  a  Christian 
king,  to  be  guided  by  Christian  motive,  to  the  domestic 
duties  of  the  peasant,  which  ought  to  be  fulfilled  on 
the  principle  of  Christian  love. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  the  State  was  supreme  over 
all  its  subjects,  even  over  the  clergy,  in  their  character 


Chap.  I.  RELATIONS  OF  CHURCH  AND   STATE.  291 

of  citizens.  The  wliole  tenure  of  property,  to  what  use 
soever  dedicated  (except  in  such  cases  as  the  State 
itself  might  legalize  on  its  first  principles,  and  guaran- 
tee, when  bestowed,  as  by  gift  or  bequest),  was  under 
its  absolute  control ;  the  immunities  which  it  conferred 
it  might  revoke  ;  and  it  would  assert  the  equal  author- 
ity of  the  constitutional  laws  over  every  one  who  en- 
joyed the  protection  of  those  laws.  Thus,  though  in 
extreme  cases  these  separate  bounds  of  jurisdiction 
were  clear,  the  tribunals  of  ecclesiastical  and  civil  law 
could  not  but,  in  process  of  time,  interfere  with  and 
obstruct  each  other. 

But  there  was  another  prolific  source  of  difference. 
The  clergy  in  one  sense,  from  being  the  representative 
body,  had  begun  to  consider  themselves  the  Church ; 
but,  in  another  and  more  legitimate  sense,  the  State, 
when  Christian,  as  comprehending  all  the  Christians 
of  the  empire,  became  the  Church.  Which  was  the 
legislative  body, — the  whole  community  of  Christians  ? 
or  the  Christian  aristocracy,  who  were  in  one  sense 
the  admitted  rulers  ?  And  who  was  to  appoint  these 
rulers  ?  It  is  quite  clear,  that  from  the  first,  though 
the  consecration  to  the  religious  office  was  in  the 
bishop  and  clergy,  the  laity  had  a  voice  in  the  ratifi- 
cation, if  not  in  the  appointment.  Did  not  the  State 
fairly  succeed  to  all  the  rights  of  the  laity,  more  par- 
ticularly when  privileges  and  endowments,  attached  to 
the  ecclesiastical  offices  were  conferred  or  guaranteed 
by  the  State,  and  therefore  might  appear  in  justice 
revocable,  or  liable  to  be  regulated  by  the  civil  power  ? 

This  vital  question  at  this  time  was  still  farther 
embarrassed  by  the  rash  eagerness  with  which  the 
dominant  Church  called  upon  the  State  to  rid  it  of  its 
internal  adversaries.     When  once  the  civil  power  was 


292  MARRIAGE.  Book  IV. 

recognized  as  cognizant  of  ecclesiastical  offences,  where 
was  that  power  to  end?  The  emperor,  who  com- 
manded his  subjects  to  be  of  one  religion,  might 
command  them,  by  the  same  title,  to  adopt  another. 
The  despotic  head  of  the  State  might  assert  his 
despotism  as  head  of  the  Church.  It  must  be  ac- 
knowledged, that  no  theory,  which  has  satisfactorily 
harmonized  the  relations  of  these  two,  at  once,  in  one 
sense  separate,  in  another  identical,  communities,  has 
satisfied  the  reasoning  and  dispassionate  mind ;  while 
the  separation  of  the  two  communities,  the  total  dis- 
sociation, as  it  were,  of  the  Christian  and  the  citizen, 
is  an  experiment  apparently  not  likely  to  advance  or 
perpetuate  the  influence  of  Christianity. 

At  all  events,  the  hasty  and  unsettled  compact  of 
this  period  left  room  for  constant  jealousy  and  strife. 
As  each  was  the  stronger,  it  encroached  upon  and  ex- 
tended its  dominion  into  the  territory  of  the  other. 
In  general,  though  with  very  various  fortunes,  in  dif- 
ferent parts  of  the  world,  and  at  different  periods,  the 
Church  was  in  the  ascendant,  and  for  many  centuries 
confronted  the  State,  at  least  on  equal  terms. 

The  first  aggression,  as  it  were,  which  the  Churcli 

Marriage  made  OU  tllC  State,  was  in  assuming  the   cog- 

under  eccle-  nizance  over  all  questions  and  causes  relat- 
cipiine.  ing  to  marriage.  In  sanctifying  this  solemn 
contract,  it  could  scarcely  be  considered  as  transgress- 
ing its  proper  limits  as  guardian  of  this  primary  ele- 
ment of  social  virtue  and  happiness.  In  the  early 
Church,  the  benediction  of  the  Ijishop  or  presbyter 
seems  to  have  been  previously  sought  by  the  Christian 
at  the  time  of  marriage.  The  Heathen  rite  of  mar- 
riage was  so  manifestly  religious,  that  the  Christian, 
while  he  sought  to  avoid  that  idolatrous  ceremony, 


Chap.  1.  RESTEAINTS  ON  MARRIAGE.  293 

would  wish  to  substitute  some  more  simple  and  cou- 
genial  form.  In  the  general  sentiment  that  this  contract 
should  be  public  and  sacred,  he  would  seek  the  sanc- 
tion of  his  own  community  as  its  witnesses.  Marriage 
not  performed  in  the  face  of  his  Christian  brethren 
was  little  better  than  an  illicit  union. ^ 

It  was  an  object  likewise  of  the  early  Christian  com- 
munity to  restrict  the  marriage  of  Christians  to  Chris- 
tians—  to  discountenance,  if  not  prohibit,  those  with 
unbelievers. 2  This  was  gradually  extended  to  mar- 
riages with  heretics,  or  members  of  another  Christian 
sect.  When,  therefore,  the  Church  began  to  recognize 
five  legal  impediments  to  marriage,  this  was  the  1st,  — 
difference  of  religion  as  between  Christians  and  infi- 
dels, Jews,  or  heretics.  The  2d  was  the  impediment 
of  crime.  Persons  guilty  of  adultery  were  not  allowed 
to  marry  according  to  the  Roman  law :  this  was  rec- 
ognized by  the  Church.     A  law  of  Constantius  had 

1  "  Ideo  penes  nos  occultse  conjuuctiones,  id  est,  non  prius  apud  ecclesiam 
professsB,  juxta  mcecbiam  et  fornicationem  judicari  periclitantur."  —  TeiluU. 
de  Pudic.  c.  4. 

Though  the  right  was  solemnized  in  the  presence  of  the  Christian  priest, 
and  the  Church  attempted  to  impose  a  graver  and  more  serious  dignity,  it  was 
not  easy  to  throw  off  the  gay  and  festive  character  which  had  prevailed  in  the 
Heathen  times.  Paganism,  or  rather  perhaps  human  nature,  was  too  strong 
to  submit.  The  austere  preacher  of  Constantinople  reproved  the  loose  hymns 
to  Venus,  which  were  beard  even  at  Christian  weddings.  The  bride,  he  says, 
was  borne  by  drunken  men  to  her  husband's  house,  among  choirs  of  dancing 
harlots,  with  pipes  and  flutes  and  songs,  full,  to  her  chaste  ear,  of  offensive 
license. 

2  A  law  of  Valentinian  II.,  Theodosius,  and  Arcadius  (A.D.  388)  prohib- 
ited the  intermarriage  of  Jews  and  Christians.  —  Codex  Theodos.  iii.  7,  2. 
It  was  to  be  considered  adultery.  "  Cave,  Christiane,  Gentili  aut  Judaeo 
filiam  tradere;  cave,  inquam,  Gentilem  aut  Jud^am  atque  alienigenam,  hoc 
est,  baereticam,  et  omnem  alienam  a  tide  tua  uxorem  accersas  tibi."  —  Am- 
bros.  de  Abraham,  c.  9.  "  Cum  certissime  noveris  tradi  a  nobis  Christianam 
nisi  Christiano  non  posse."  —  Augustin.  Ep.  234,  ad  Rusticum. 

The  Council  of  Illiberis  had  prohibited  Christians  from  giving  their  daugh- 
ters in  marriage  to  Gentiles  (propter  copiam  puellarum),  also  to  Jews,  here- 
tics, and  especially  to  Heathen  priests.  —  Can.  xv.,  xvi.,  xvii. 


294  DIVORCE.  Book  IV. 

made  rape,  or  forcible  abduction  of  a  virgin,  a  capital 
offence ;  so,  even  with  the  consent  of  the  injured 
female,  marriage  could  not  take  place.  3.  Impedi- 
ments from  relationship.  Here  also  the  Church  was 
content  to  follow  the  Roman  law,  which  was  as  severe 
and  precise  as  the  Mosaic  Institutes.^  4.  The  civil  im- 
pediment. Children  adopted  by  the  same  father  could 
not  marry.  A  freeman  could  not  marry  a  slave :  the 
connection  was  only  concubinage.  It  does  not  appear 
that  the  Church  yet  ventured  to  correct  this  vice  of 
Roman  society.  5.  Spiritual  relationship,  between 
godfathers  and  their  spiritual  children :  this  was  after- 
wards carried  much  farther.  To  these  regulations  for 
the  repression  of  improper  connections  were  added 
some  other  ecclesiastical  impediments.  There  were 
holy  periods  in  the  year,  in  which  it  was  forbidden  to 
contract  marriage.  No  one  might  marry  while  under 
ecclesiastical  interdict,  nor  one  who  had  made  a  vow 
of  chastity. 

The  facility  of  divorce  was  the  primary  principle  of 
corruption  in  Roman  social  life.     Augustus 

Divorce.  .      . 

had  attempted  to  enforce  some  restrictions 
on  this  unlimited  power  of  dissolving  the  matrimonial 
contract  from  caprice  or  the  lightest  motive.  Proba- 
bly the  severity  of  Christian  morals  had  obtained  that 
law  of  Constantine  which  was  so  much  too  rigid  for 
the  state  of  society,  as  to  be  entirely  ineffective  from 
the  impossibility  of  carrying  it  into  execution. ^  It 
was  relaxed  by  Constantius,  and  almost  abrogated  by 
Honorius.3     The  inveterate  evil  remained.     A  Chris- 

1  See  the  various  laws  in  the  Cod.  Theod.  lib.  iii.  tit.  12,  De  Incestis 
Nuptiis. 

2  Codex  Theodos.  iii.  16,  1.     See  vol.  ii.  p.  401. 

8  By  the  law  of  Honorius,  —  1.  The  woman  who  demanded  a  divorce 
without  sufficient  proof  forfeited  her  dowry,  was  condemned  to  banishment, 


Chap.  I.  SANCTITY  OF  MARRIAGE.  295 

tian  writer,  at  the  beginning  of  the  fifth  century,  com- 
plains that  men  changed  tlieir  wives  as  quickly  as  their 
clothes,  and  that  marriage  chambers  were  set  up  as 
easily  as  booths  in  a  market.^  At  a  later  period  than 
that  to  wliich  our  history  extends,  when  Justinian  at- 
tempted to  prohibit  all  divorces  except  those  on  account 
of  chastity,  —  that  is,  when  the  parties  embraced  the 
monastic  life,  —  he  was  obliged  to  relax  the  law  on  ac- 
count of  the  fearful  crimes,  the  plots  and  poisonings, 
and  other  evils,  which  it  introduced  into  domestic  life. 
But  thougli  it  could  not  correct  or  scarcely  mitigate 
this  evil  by  public  law  in  the  general  body  of  society, 
Christianity,  in  its  proper  and  more  peculiar  sphere, 
had  invested  marriage  in  a  religious  sanctity,  which  at 
ieast,  to  a  limited  extent,  repressed  this  social  evil. 
By  degrees,  separation  from  bed  and  board,  even  in 
the  case  of  adultery,  the  only  cause  which  could  dis- 
solve the  tie,  was  substituted  and  enforced  by  the 
clergy  instead  of  legal  divorce.     Over  all  the  ceremo- 

could  not  contract  a  second  marriage,  and  was  without  laope  of  restoration  to 
civil  rights.  2.  If  she  made  out  only  a  tolerable  case  (convicted  her  husband 
only  of  mediocHs  culpa),  she  only  forfeited  her  dowry,  and  could  not  contract 
a  second  marriage,  but  was  liable  to  be  prosecuted  b}^  her  husband  for  adul- 
tery. 3.  If  she  made  a  strong  case  {gravis  causa),  she  retained  her  dowry, 
and  might  marry  again  after  tive  years.  The  husband,  in  the  first  case,  for- 
feited the  gifts  and  dowry,  and  was  condemned  to  perpetual  celibacy,  not  hav- 
ing liberty  to  marry  again  after  a  certain  number  of  years.  In  the  second,  he 
forfeited  the  dowry,  but  not  the  donation,  and  could  marry  again  after  two 
years.  In  the  third,  he  was  bound  to  prosecute  his  guilty  wife.  On  her 
conviction,  he  retained  the  dowry,  and  might  marry  again  immediately.  — 
Cod.  Theodos.  iii.  xvi.  2. 

1  "  Mulieres  a  maritis  tanquam  vestes  subinde  mutari,  et  thalamos  tarn 
S£Epe  et  facile  strui  quam  nundinarum  tabernas."  —  Asterius  Amasenus  apud 
Combefis.  Auct.  t.  i. 

The  story  has  been  often  quoted  from  St.  Jerome,  of  the  man  (of  the  low- 
est class)  in  Rome,  who  had  had  twenty  wives,  not  divorced  (he  had  bm-ied 
them  all) :  his  wife  had  had  twenty-two  husbands.  There  was  a  great  anxiety 
to  know  which  would  outlive  the  other.  The  man  carried  the  day,  and  bore 
his  wife  to  the  grave  in  a  kind  of  triumphal  procession.  —  Hieronym.  Epist. 
xci.  p.  745. 


296  WILLS.  Book  IV. 

nial  forms,  and  all  expressions  which  related  to  mar- 
riage, the  Church  threw  the  utmost  solemnity  ;  it  was 
said  to  resemble  the  mystic  union  of  Christ  and  the 
Church ;  till  at  length  marriage  grew  up  into  a  sacra- 
ment, indissoluble  until  the  final  separation  of  death, 
except  by  the  highest  ecclesiastical  authority .^  It  is 
impossible  to  calculate  the  effect  of  this  canonization, 
as  it  were,  of  marriage,  the  only  remedy  which  could 
be  applied,  first  to  the  corrupt  manners  of  Roman 
society,  and  afterwards  to  the  consequences  of  the  bar- 
barian invasions,  in  which,  notwithstanding  the  strong 
moral  element  in  the  Teutonic  character,  and  the 
respect  for  women  (which  no  doubt  was  one  of  the 
original  principles  of  chivalry),  yet  the  dominance  of 
brute  force,  and  the  unlimited  rights  of  conquest,  could 
not  but  lead  to  the  perpetual,  lawless,  and  violent  dis- 
solution of  the  marriage  tie.^ 

The  cognizance  of  wills,  another  department  in 
which  the  Church  assumed  a  power  not 
strictly  ecclesiastical,  seems  to  have  arisen 
partly  from  an  accidental  cause.  It  was  the  custom 
among  the  Heathen  to  deposit  wills  in  the  temples,  as 
a  place  of  security :  the  Christians  followed  their  prac- 
tice, and  chose  their  churches  as  the  depositaries  of 
these  important  documents.  They  thus  came  under 
the  custody  of  the  clergy,  who,  from  guardians,  be- 
came, in  their  courts,  the  judges  of  their  authenticity 

1  The  Eastern  Churches  had  a  horror  of  second  marriage ;  a  presbyter  was 
forbidden  to  be  present  at  the  wedding-feast  of  a  digamist.  —  Can.  vii.  See 
above. 

2  It  is  curious  to  trace  the  rapid  fall  of  Roman  pride.  Valentinian  made 
the  intermarriage  of  a  Roman  provincial  with  a  barbarian  a  capital  crime 
(A.D.  370).  — Codex  Theodos.  iii.  14,  1.  Under  Theodosius,  Fravitta,  the 
Goth,  man-ied  a  Roman  woman  with  the  consent  of  the  emperor.  —  Eunap. 
Excerpt.  Legat.  In  another  century,  the  daughters  of  emperors  were  the 
willing  or  the  enforced  brides  of  barbarian  kings. 


Chap  I.  PEITANCE.  297 

or  legality,  and  at  length  a  general  tribunal  for  all 
matters  relating  to  testaments. 

Thus  religion  laid  its  sacred  control  on  all  the  mate 
rial  incidents  of  human  life,  and  around  the  ministers 
of  religion  gathered  all  the  influence  thus  acquired  over 
the  sentiments  of  mankind.  The  font  of  baptism  usu- 
ally received  the  Christian  infant,  and  the  form  of 
baptism  was  uttered  by  the  priest  or  bishop  ;  the  mar- 
riage was  unhallowed  without  the  priestly  benediction  ; 
and,  at  the  close  of  life,  the  minister  of  religion  was  at 
hand  to  absolve  and  to  re-assure  the  departing  spirit ; 
at  the  funeral,  he  ratified,  as  it  were,  the  solemn  prom- 
ises of  immortality.  But  the  great,  permanent,  and 
perpetual  source  of  sacerdotal  authority  was  the  peni- 
tential discipline  of  the  Church,  which  was  universally 
recognized  as  belonging  exclusively  to  the  jurisdiction 
of  the  clergy.  Christianity  had  sufficient  Penitential 
power,  in  a  certain  degree,  to  engross  the  '•'^"p^'°®- 
mind  and  heart,  but  not  to  keep  under  perpetual  re- 
straint the  unruly  passions  or  the  inquisitive  mind. 
The  best  were  most  conscious  of  human  infirmity, 
and  most  jealous  of  their  own  slight  aberrations  from 
the  catholic  belief;  the  bad  had  not  merely  their  own 
conscience,  but  public  fame  and  the  condemnatory 
voice  of  the  community,  to  prostrate  them  before  the 
visible  arbiters  of  the  All-seeing  Power.  Sin,  from  the 
most  heinous  delinquency,  or  the  darkest  heresy,  to 
the  most  trivial  fault  or  the  slighest  deviation  from  the 
established  belief,  could  only  be  reconciled  by  the  ad- 
vice, the  guidance,  at  length  by  the  direct  authority, 
of  the  priest.  He  judged  of  its  magnitude,  he  pre- 
scribed the  appointed  penance.  The  hierarchy  were 
supposed  to  be  invested  with  the  keys  of  heaven  and 
of  hell :  they  undoubtedly  held  those  which  unlock  the 


298  PENANCE.  Book  IV. 

human  heart,  —  fear  and  hope.  And  when  once  the 
mind  was  profoundly  affected  by  Christianity,  when 
hope  had  failed  to  excite  to  more  generous  obedience, 
they  applied  the  baser  and  more  servile  instrument 
without  scruple  and  without  remorse. 

The  penitential  discipline  of  the  Church,  no  doubt, 
grew  up,  like  other  usages,  by  slow  degrees :  its  regu- 
lations, were  framed  into  a  system  to  meet  the  exi- 
gences of  the  times  ;  but  we  discern,  at  a  very  early 
period,  the  awful  power  of  condemning  to  the  most  pro- 
found humiliation,  to  the  most  agonizing  contrition,  to 
the  shame  of  public  confession,  to  the  abasing  suppli- 
cation before  the  priest,  to  long  seclusion  from  the  priv- 
ileges and  the  society  of  the  Christian  community. 
Even  then  public  confession  was  the  first  process  in 
the  fearful  yet  inevitable  ceremonial.  "  Confession  of 
sin,"  says  Tertullian,^  "is  the  proper  discipline  for  the 
abasement  and  humiliation  of  man  ;  it  enforces  tliat 
mode  of  life  which  can  alone  find  mercy  with  God  ;  it 
prescribes  the  fitting  dress  and  food  of  the  penitent  to 
be  in  sackcloth  and  ashes,  to  darken  the  body  with 
filth,  to  depress  the  soul  with  anguish ;  it  allows  only 
the  simplest  food,  enough  and  no  more  than  will  main- 
tain life.  Constantly  to  fast  and  pray,  to  groan,  to 
weep,  to  howl  day  and  night  before  the  Lord  our  God, 
to  grovel  at  the  feet  of  the  presbyter,  to  kneel  at  the 
altar  of  God,  to  implore  from  all  the  brethren  their 
deprecatory  supplications."  Subsequently,  the  more 
complete  penitential  system  rigidly  regulated  the  most 
minute  particulars,  —  the  attitude,  the  garb,  the  lan- 
guage, or  the  more  expressive  silence.  The  place  in 
which  the  believer  stood,  showed  to  the  whc/le  Church 
how  far  the  candidate  for  salvation  through  Christ  had 

1  De  Poenitentia,  c  9. 


Chap.  I.  PENANCE.  299 

been  thrown  back  in  his  spiritual  course,  what  prog- 
ress he  was  making  to  pardon  and  peace.  The  peni- 
tent was  clothed  in  sackcloth,  his  head  was  strewn 
with  ashes  ;  men  shaved  tiieir  heads,  women  left  their 
dishevelled  hair  flung  over  their  bosoms  ;  they  wore 
a  peculiar  veil.  The  severest  attendance  on  every  reli- 
gious service  was  exacted,  all  diversions  were  pro- 
scribed, marriage  was  not  permitted  during  the  time  of 
penance,  the  lawful  indulgence  of  the  marriage  bed 
was  forbidden.  Although  a  regular  formulary,  which 
gradually  grew  into  use,^  imposed  canonical  penances 
of  a  certain  period  for  certain  offences,  yet  that  period 
might  be  rigidly  required  or  shortened  by  the  authority 
of  the  bishop.  For  some  offences,  the  penitent,  who  it 
was  believed  was  abandoned  to  the  power  of  Satan,  was 
excluded  from  all  enjoyment,  all  honor,  and  all  society, 
to  the  close  of  life  ;  and  the  doors  of  reconciliation 
were  hardly  opened  to  the  departing  spirit,  —  wonder- 
ful proof  how  profoundly  the  doctrines  of  Christianity 
had  sunk  into  the  human  heart,  and  of  the  enormous 
power  (and  what  enormous  power  is  not  liable  to 
abuse  ?)  in  which  the  willing  reverence  of  the  people 
had  invested  the  priesthood. 

But  something  more  fearful  still  remained.  Over  all 
the  community  hung  the  tremendous  sentence  of  ex- 
communication, tantamount  to  a  sentence  of  spiritual 
death.2  rp|^jg  sentence,  though  not  as  yet  dependent 
on  his  will,  was  pronounced  and  executed  by  the  reli- 

1  On  the  Penitentiaries,  compare  Latin  Christianity,  book  iii.  c  5. 

2  "  Interflci  Deus  jussit  sacerdotibus  non  obtemperantes,  judicibus  a  se  ad 
tempus  constitutis  non  obedientes;  sed  tunc  quidera  gladio  occidebantur, 
quando  adhuc  et  circumcisio  camis  manebat.  Nunc  autem  quia  circumcisio 
spiritalis  esse  apud  fideles  Dei  servos  ccepit,  spiritali  gladio  superbi  et  contu- 
maces  ntcantur,  dum  de  ecclesia  ejiciuntur."  —  Cyprian  Epist.  Ixii. 

"  iSIuuc  agit  in  ecclesia  excommunicatio,  quod  agebat  tunc  in  interfectis." 
—  Augustin.  Q.  39,  in  Deuteron. 


500  EXCOMMUNICATION.  Book  IV* 

gious  magistrate.  The  clergy  adhered  to  certain 
regular  forms  of  process,  but  the  ultimate  decree 
rested  with  them. 

Excommunication  was  of  two  kinds  :  first,  that  which 
excluded  from  the  communion,  and  threw  Excommu- 
back  the  initiate  Christian  into  the  ranks  of  ^^^''*^°^- 
the  uninitiate.  This  separation  or  suspension  al- 
lowed the  person  under  ban  to  enter  the  church,  to 
hear  the  psalms  and  sermon,  and,  in  short,  all  that  was 
permitted  to  the  catechumen. 

But  the  more  terrible  excommunication  by  anath- 
ema altogether  banished  the  delinquent  from  the 
Church  and  the  society  of  Christians  :  it  annulled  for 
ever  his  hopes  of  immortality  through  Christ ;  it  drove 
him  out  as  an  outcast  to  the  dominion  of  the  Evil  Spirit. 
The  Christian  might  not  communicate  with  him  in  the 
ordinary  intercourse  of  life :  he  was  a  moral  leper, 
whom  it  was  the  solemn  duty  of  all  to  avoid,  lest  they 
shoidd  partake  in  his  contagion..  The  sentence  of  one 
church  was  rapidly  promulgated  throughout  Christen- 
dom ;  and  the  excommunicated  in  Egypt  or  Syria 
found  the  churches  in  Gaul  or  Spain  closed  against 
him :  he  was  an  exile  without  a  resting-place.  As 
long  as  Heathenism  survived,  at  least  in  equal  tempo- 
ral power  and  distinction,  and  another  society  received 
with  welcome,  or  at  least  with  undiminished  respect, 
the  exile  from  Christianity,  the  excommunicated  might 
lull  his  remaining  terrors  to  rest,  and  forget,  in  the 
business  or  dissipation  of  the  world,  his  forfeited  hopes 
of  immortality.  But  when  there  was  but  one  society, 
that  of  the  Christians,  throughout  the  world,  or  at  best 
but  a  feeble  and  despised  minority,  he  stood  a  marked 
and  ])randed  man.  Those  who  were,  perhaps,  not  bet- 
ter Christians,  but  who  had  escaped  the  fatal  censures 


Chap.  I.  SYNESIUS.  301 

of  the  Church,  would  perhaps  seize  the  opportunity  of 
showing  their  zeal  by  avoiding  the  outcast.  If  he  did 
not  lose  civil  privileges,  he  lost  civil  estimation  ;  he 
was  altogether  excluded  from  human  respect  and  hu- 
man sympathies ;  he  was  a  legitimate,  almost  a  desig- 
nated, object  of  scorn,  distrust,  and  aversion. 

The  nature,  the  extent,  and  some  of  the  moral  and 
even  political  advantages  of  excommunication,  are 
illustrated  in  the  act  of  the  celebrated  Syne- 
sius.  The  power  of  the  Christian  bishop,  "°^''"  ' 
in  his  hands,  appears  under  its  noblest  and  most  bene- 
ficial form.  Synesius  became  a  Christian  bishop 
without  renouncing  the  habits,  the  language,  and,  in 
a  great  degree,  the  opinions,  of  a  philosopher.  His 
writings,  more  especially  his  Odes,  blend  with  a  very 
scanty  Cliristianity  the  mystic  theology  of  the  later 
Platonism ;  but  it  is  rather  philosophy  adopting  Chris- 
tian language  than  Cliristianity  moulding  philosophy 
to  its  own  uses.  Yet  so  high  was  the  character  of 
Synesius,  that  even  the  worldly  prelate  of  Alexandria, 
Theophilus,  approved  of  his  elevation  to  the  episcopate 
in  the  obscure  town  of  Ptolemais,  near  Cyrene.  Syne- 
sius felt  the  power  with  which  he  was  invested,  and 
employed  it  with  a  wise  vigor  and  daring  philanthrophy, 
which  commanded  the  admiration  both  of  philosophy 
and  of  religion.  The  low-born  Andronicus  was  the 
Prefect,  or  rather  the  scourge  and  tyrant,  of  Libya  ;  his 
exactions  were  unprecedented,  and  enforced  by  tortures 
of  unusual  cruelty  even  in  that  age  and  country.  The 
province  groaned  and  bled,  without  hoj^e  of  relief, 
under  the  hateful  and  sanguinary  oppression.  Syne- 
sius had  tried  in  vain  the  milder  language  of  persuasion 
upon  the  intractable  tyrant.  At  length  he  put  forth 
the  terrors  of  the  Church  to  shield  the  people ;  and 


302  HERESY  VISITED  WITH  Book  IV, 

for  his  rapacity,  which  had  amounted  to  sacrilege, 
and  for  his  inhumanity,  the  president  of  the  whole 
province  was  openly  condemned,  by  a  sentence  of 
excommunication,  to  the  public  abhorrence,  excluded 
from  the  society,  and  denied  the  common  rights  of  men. 
He  was  expelled  from  tlie  Church,  as  the  Devil  from 
Paradise ;  every  Christian  temple,  every  sanctuary, 
was  closed  against  the  man  of  blood ;  the  priest  was 
not  even  to  permit  him  the  rites  of  Christian  burial ; 
every  private  man  and  every  magistrate  was  to  exclude 
him  from  their  houses  and  from  their  tables.  If  the 
rest  of  Christendom  refused  to  ratify  and  execute 
the  sentence  of  the  obscure  church  of  Ptolemais,  they 
were  guilty  of  the  sin  of  schism.  The  church  of 
Ptolemais  would  not  communicate  or  partake  of  the 
divine  mysteries  with  those  who  thus  violated  ecclesi- 
astical discipline.  The  excommunication  included  the 
accomplices  of  the  president's  guilt,  and,  by  a  less 
justifiable  extension  of  power,  their  families.  An- 
dronicus  quailed  before  the  interdict,  which  he  feared 
might  find  countenance  in  the  court  of  Constantinople  ; 
bowed  before  the  protector  of  the  people,  and  acknowl- 
edged the  justice  of  his  sentence.^ 

The  salutary  thunder  of  sacerdotal  excommunica- 
tion might  here  and  there  strike  some  eminent  delin- 
quent;^ but  ecclesiastical  discipline,  which,  in  the 
earlier  and  more  fervent  period  of  the  religion,  had 
watched  with  holy  jealousy  the  whole  life  of  the  indi- 

1  Synesii  Epistolse,  Ivii.,  Iviii. 

2  There  is  a  canon  of  the  Council  of  Toledo  (A.D.  408),  that,  if  any  man 
in  power  shall  have  robbed  one  in  holy  ordei's,  or  a  poor  man  {quemlibet  pau- 
periorem),  or  a  monk,  and  the  bishop  shall  send  to  demand  a  hearing  for  the 
cause,  should  the  man  in  power  treat  his  message  with  contempt,  letters  shall 
be  sent  to  all  the  bishops  of  the  province,  declaring  him  excommunicated  till 
he  has  heard  the  cause  or  made  restitution.  —  Can.  xi.  Labbe,  ii.  1225. 


Chap.  I.  CIVIL  PENALTIES.  308 

vidual,  was  baffled  by  the  increase  of  votaries,  which 
it  could  no  longer  submit  to  this  severe  and  constant 
superintendence.  The  clergy  could  not  command, 
nor  the  laity  require,  the  sacred  duty  of  secession 
and  outward  penance  from  the  multitude  of  sinners, 
when  they  were  the  larger  part  of  the  com-  Ecclesiastical 

-r,     .     ,  t}  '     '  censures 

munity.  Jout  heresy  oi  opinion  was  more  chietiv  con- 
easily  detected  than  heresy  of  conduct.  Grad-  heresy. 
ually,  from  a  moral  as  well  as  a  religious  power,  the 
discipline  became  almost  exclusively  religious,  or 
rather  confined  itself  to  the  speculative,  while  it  almost 
abandoned  in  despair  the  practical  effects  of  religion. 
Heresy  became  the  one  great  crime  for  which  excom- 
munication was  pronounced  in  its  most  awful  form ; 
the  heretic  was  the  one  being  with  whom  it  was  crim- 
inal to  associate,  who  forfeited  all  the  privileges  of 
religion,  and  all  the  charities  of  life. 

Nor  was  this  all:  in  pursuit  of  the  heretic,  the 
Church  was  not  content  to  rest  within  her  Executed 
own  sphere,  to  wield  her  own  arms  of  moral  ^^  *^®  ^^^' 
temperament,  and  to  exclude  from  her  own  territory. 
She  formed  a  fatal  alliance  with  the  State,  and  raised 
that  which  was  strictly  an  ecclesiastical,  an  offence 
against  the  religious  community,  into  a  civil  crime, 
amenable  to  temporal  penalties.  The  Church,  when 
she  ruled  the  mind  of  a  religious  or  superstitious  em- 
peror, could  not  forego  the  immediate  advantage  of 
his  authority  to  further  her  own  cause,  and  hailed  his 
welcome  intrusion  on  her  own  internal  legislation. 
In  fact,  the  autocracy  of  the  emperor  over  the  Church, 
as  well  as  over  the  State,  was  asserted  in  all  those 
edicts  which  the  Church,  in  its  blind  zeal,  hailed  with 
transport  as  the  marks  of  his  allegiance,  but  which 
confounded  in  inextricable,  ana,  to  tne  present  tirtie. 


304  INVOCATION  OF  THE  CIVIL  POWER.        Book  IV. 

in  deplorable  confusion,  the  limits  of  the  religious 
and  the  civil  power.  The  imperial  rescripts,  which 
made  heresy  a  civil  offence  by  affixing  penalties 
which  were  not  purely  religious,  trespassed  as  much 
upon  the  real  principles  of  the  original  religious  re- 
public, as  against  the  immutable  laws  of  conscience 
Civil  punish-  ^^^  Christian  charity.  The  tremendous  laws 
desksdca?'  ^^  Theodosius,^  constituting  heresy  a  capital 
offences.  offcuce,  puuishablc  by  the  civil  power,  are 
said  to  have  been  enacted  only  as  a  terror  to  evil- 
believers,  but  they  betrayed  too  clearly  the  darkening 
spirit  of  the  times  ;  the  next  generation  vrould  execute 
what  the  laws  of  the  last  would  enact.  The  most  dis- 
tinguished bishops  of  the  time  raised  a  cry  of  horror 
at  the  first  executions  for  religion ;  but  it  was  their 
humanity  which  was.  startled.  They  did  not  perceive 
that  they  had  sanctioned,  by  the  smallest  civil  penalty, 
a  false  and  fatal  principle ;  that  though,  by  the  legal 
establishment,  the  Church  and  the  State  had  become, 
in  one  sense,  the  same  body,  yet  the  associating  prin- 
ciple of  each  remained  entirely  distinct,  and  demanded 
an  entirely  different  and  independent  system  of  legis- 
lation and  administration  of  the  law.  The  Christian 
hierarchy  bought  the  privilege  of  persecution  at  the 
price  of  Christian  independence. 

It  is  difficult  to  decide  whether  the  language  of  the 
book  in  the  Theodosian  code,  entitled  "  On  Heretics," 
contrasts  more  strongly  with  the  comprehensive,  equi- 
table, and  parental  tone  of  the  Roman  jurisprudence, 
or  with  the  gentle  and  benevolent  spirit  of  the  Gospel, 
or  even  with  the  primary  principles  of  the  ecclesiastical 
community .2     The  emperor,  of  his  sole  and  supreme 

T-  See  ch.  viji. 

2  "  Haereticorum  vocabulo  continentur,  et  latis  adversus  eos  sanctionibixs 


Chap.  I.  INVOCATIOIn    OF  THE  CIVIL  POWER.  305 

authority,  without  any  recognition  of  ecclesiastical  ad- 
vice or  sanction,  —  the  emperor,  who  himself  miglit  be 
an  Arian  or  Eunomian  or  Manichean,  who  had  so 
recently  been  an  Arian,  —  defines  heresy  to  be  the  very 
slightest  deviation  from  Catholic  verity ;  and  in  a  suc- 
cession of  statutes  inflicts  civil  penalties,  and  excludes 
from  the  common  rights  of  men  the  maintainors  of 
certain  opinions.  Nothing  treasonable,  immoral,  dan- 
gerous to  the  peace  of  society,  is  alleged;  the  crime, 
the  civil  crime,  as  it  now  becomes,  consists  solely  in 
opinions.  The  law  of  Constantine,  which  granted 
special  immunities  to  certain  of  his  subjects,  might 
perhaps,  with  some  show  of  equity,  confine  those  im- 
munities to  a  particular  class.^  But  the  gradually 
darkening  statutes  proceed  from  the  withholding  of 
privileges  to  the  prohibition  of  meetings,^  then  through 
confiscation,^  the  refusal  of  the  common  right  of  be- 
queathing property,  fine,*  exile,^  to  capital  punishment.^ 
The  latter,  indeed,  was  enacted  only  against  some  of 
the  more  obscure  sects,  and  some  of  the  Donatists, 
whose  turbulent  and  seditious  conduct  might  demand 
the  interference  of  the  civil  power ;  but  still  they  are 
condemned,  not  as  rebels  and  insurgents,  but  as  here- 
tics.'^ 

debent  succumbere,  qui  vel  levi  avgumento  a  judicio  Catholicse  religionis  et 
tramite  detecti  fuerint  deviare."  This  is  a  law  of  Arcadius.  The  practice 
was  more  lenient  than  the  law. 

1  The  first  law  of  Constantine  restricts  the  immunities  which  he  grants  to 
Catholics.  —  Cod.  Theodos.  xvi. 

2  The  law  of  Gratian  (IV.)  confiscates  the  houses  or  even  fields  in  which 
heretical  conventicles  are  held.     See  also  law  of  Theodosius,  viii. 

3  Leges  xi.,  xii.  4  j^id.  xxi.  5  Ibid,  xviii.,  liii.,  Iviii. 

6  The  law  of  Theodosius  enacts  this,  not  against  the  general  body,  but 
some  small  sections  of  Manicheans,  "  Summo  supplicio  et  inexpiabili  poenS, 
jubemus  afiiigi."  —  ix.  This  law  sanctions  the  ill-omened  name  of  inquisi- 
tors. Compare  law  xxxv.  The  "interminata  pcena"  of  law  Ix.  is  against 
Eunomians,  Arians,  and  Macedonians. 

^  Ad  HeracHanum,  Ivi.  The  imperial  laws  against  second  baptisms  are 
VOL.  III.  20 


806  HISTORICAL  RESULTS  Book  IV. 

In  building  up  this  vast  and  majestic  fabric  of  the 
Objects  of  hierarchy,  though  individuals  might  be  actu- 
fendersof  the  atcd  bj  pcrsoual  ambitiou  or  interest,  and  the 
power.  narrow  corporate   spirit   might   rival   loftier 

motives  in  the  consolidation  of  ecclesiastical  power,  yet 
the  great  object,  which  was  steadily  if  dimly  seen,  was 
the  .advancement  of  mankind  in  religion,  and  through 
religion  to  temporal  and  eternal  happiness.  Dazzled 
by  the  glorious  spectacle  of  provinces,  of  nations,  grad- 
ually brought  within  the  pale  of  Christianity,  the  great 
men  of  the  fourth  century  of  Christianity  were  not  and 
could  not  be  endowed  with  prophetic  sagacity  to  dis- 
cern the  abuses  of  sacerdotal  domination,  and  the  tyr- 
anny which,  long  centuries  after,  might  be  exercised 
over  the  human  mind  in  the  name  of  religion.  We 
may  trace  the  hierarchical  principles  of  Cyprian  or  of 
Ambrose  to  what  may  seem  their  natural  consequences, 
religious  crusades  and  the  fires  of  the  inquisition ;  toe 
may  observe  the  tendency  of  unsocial  monasticism  to 
quench  the  charities  of  life,  to  harden  into  cruelty, 
grovel  into  licentiousness,  and  brood  over  its  own  igno- 
rance ;  we  may  trace  the  predestinarian  doctrines  of 
Augustine  darkening  into  narrow  bigotry,  or  madden- 
ing to  uncharitable  fanaticism  :  thei/  only  contemplated, 
thei/  only  could  contemplate,  a  great  moral  and  reli- 
gious power  opposing  civil  tyranny,  or  at  least  afford- 
ing a  refuge  from  it,  purifying  domestic  morals, 
elevating  and  softening  the  human  heart ;  ^    a  wliole- 

still  more  singular  invasions  of  the  civil  upon  the  ecclesiastical  authority.  — 
xvi.  tit.  vi. 

1  The  laws  bear  some  pleasing  testimonies  to  the  activity  of  Christian 
benevolence  in  many  of  the  obscure  scenes  of  human  wretchedness.  See 
the  humane  law  regarding  prisoners,  that  they  might  have  proper  food,  and 
the  use  of  the  bath.  "Nee  deerit  antistitum  Christianas  religionis  cura  lau- 
dabilis,  quae  ad  observationem  constituti  judicis  banc  ingerat  monitionem." 


Chap.  I.  OF  fflERARCHICAL  POWER.  307 

some  and  benevolent  force  compelling  men  by  legiti- 
mate means  to  seek  wisdom,  virtue,  and  salvation  ;  the 
better  part  of  mankind  withdrawing,  in  holy  prudence 
and  wise  timidity,  from  the  corruptions  of  a  foul  and 
cruel  age,  and  devoting  itself  to  its  own  self-advance- 
ment to  the  highest  spiritual  perfection ;  and  the  gen- 
eral pious  assertion  of  the  universal  and  unlimited 
providence  and  supremacy  of  God.  None  but  the 
hopeful  achieve  great  revolutions ;  and  what  hopes 
could  equal  those  which  the  loftier  Christian  minds 
might  justly  entertain  of  the  beneficent  influences  of 
Christianity  ? 

We  cannot  wonder  at  the  growth  of  the  ecclesiastical 
power,  if  the  Church  were  merely  considered  as  a  new 
sphere  in  which  human  genius,  virtue,  and  Dignity  and 
benevolence  might  develop  their  unimpeded  ?hrcSli^^ 
energies,  and  rise  above  the  general  debase-  ^*'^*'°''- 
ment.  This  was  almost  the  only  way  in  wliich  any 
man  could  devote  great  abilities  or  generous  activity  to 
a  useful  purpose  with  reasonable  hopes  of  success. 
The  civil  offices  were  occupied  by  favor  and  intrigue, 
often  acquired  most  easily  and  held  most  permanently 

The  Christian  bishop  was  to  take  care  that  the  judge  did  his  duty.  —  Cod 
Theodos.  ix.  3,  7. 

As  early  as  the  reign  of  Valentinian  and  Valens,  prisoners  were  released 
at  Easter  ("  ob  diem  paschae,  quern  intimo  corde  celebramus  " ),  excepting  those 
committed  for  the  crimes  of  treason,  poisoning,  magic,  adultery,  rape,  or 
homicide.  —  ix.  36,  3,  4.  These  statutes  were  constantly  renewed,  with  the 
addition  of  some  more  excepted  crimes,  —  sacrilege,  robbery  of  tombs,  and 
coining. 

There  is  a  very  singular  law  of  Arcadius,  prohibiting  the  clergy  and  the 
monks  from  interfering  with  the  execution  of  the  laAVS,  and  forcibly  taking 
away  condemned  criminals  from  the  hands  of -justice.  They  were  allowed, 
at  the  same  time,  the  amplest  privilege  of  merciful  intercession.  This  was 
connected  with  the  privilege  of  asylum.  —  Codex  Theodos.  ix.  40,  16. 

There  is  another  singular  law  by  which  corporal  punishments  were  not  to 
be  administered  in  Lent,  except  against  the  Isaurian  robbers,  who  were  to  be 
dealt  with  without  delay.  —  ix.  35,  5,  6,  7. 


308  INFLUENCE  OF  THE  CLERGY.       Book  IV. 

by  the  worst  men  for  the  worst  purposes.  The  utter 
extinction  of  freedom  had  left  no  course  of  honorable 
distinction,  as  an  honest  advocate  or  an  independent 
jurist.  Literature  was  worn  out ;  rhetoric  had  degen- 
erated into  technical  subtlet}" ;  philosophy  had  lost  its 
hold  upon  the  mind.  Even  the  great  military  com- 
mands were  filled  by  fierce  and  active  barbarians,  on 
whose  energy  Rome  relied  for  the  protection  of  her 
frontiers.  In  the  Church  alone  was  security,  influence, 
independence,  fame,  even  wealth,  and  the  opportunity 
of  serving  mankind.  The  pulpit  was  the  only  rostrum 
from  which  the  orator  would  be  heard  ;  feeble  as  was 
the  voice  of  Christian  poetry,  it  found  an  echo  in  the 
human  heart.  The  episcopate  was  the  only  office  of 
dignity  which  could  be  obtained  without  meanness,  or 
exercised  without  fear.  Whether  he  sought  the  peace 
of  a  contemplative,  or  the  usefulness  of  an  active  life, 
this  was  the  only  sphere  for  the  man  of  conscious  men- 
tal strength ;  and,  if  he  felt  the  inward  satisfaction  that 
he  was  either  securing  his  own  or  advancing  the  salva- 
tion of  others,  the  lofty  mind  would  not  hesitate  what 
path  to  choose  through  the  darkening  and  degraded 
world. 

The  just  way  to  consider  the  influence  of  the  Chris- 
Generai         tiau  hierarchy  (without  which,  in  its  complete 

influence  of  ,      .  •       ,•  -j.  •        i  j.i     j.  xi 

the  clergy,  and  vigorous  Organization,  it  is  clear  tliat  tne 
religion  could  not  have  subsisted  throughout  these  ages 
of  disaster  and  confusion)  is  to  imagine,  if  possible, 
the  state  of  things  without  that  influence.  Consider  a 
tyranny  the  most  oppressive  and  debasing,  without 
any  principles  of  free  or  hopeful  resistance,  or  resist- 
ance only  attainable  by  the  complete  dismemberment 
of  the  Roman  empire  and  its  severance  into  a  number 
of  hostile  States ;   the  general  morals  at  the  lowest 


Chap.  I.       INFLUENCE  OF  THE  CLERGY.  309 

state  of  depravation,  with  nothing  but  a  religion  totally 
without  influence,  and  a  philosophy  without  authority, 
to  correct  its  growing  cruelty  and  licentiousness ;  a 
very  large  portion  of  mankind  in  hopeless  slavery,  with 
nothing  to  mitigate  it  but  the  insufficient  control  of 
fear  in  the  master,  or  occasional  gleams  of  humanity 
or  political  foresight  in  the  government,  with  no  in- 
ward consolation  or  feeling  of  independence  whatever. 
In  the  midst  of  this,  contemplate  the  invasion  of  hos- 
tile barbarians  in  every  quarter,  and  the  complete 
wreck  of  civilization ;  with  no  commanding  influence 
to  assimilate  the  adverse  races,  without  the  protection 
or  conservative  tendency  of  any  religious  feeling  to 
soften  them,  and  at  length  to  re-organize  and  re-create 
literature,  the  arts  of  building,  painting,  and  music ; 
the  Latin  language  itself  breaking  up  into  as  many 
countless  dialects  as  there  were  settlements  of  bar- 
barous tribes,  without  a  guardian  or  sacred  depositary. 
It  is  difficult  adequately  to  darken  the  picture  of  igno- 
rance, violence,  confusion,  and  wretchedness ;  but, 
without  this  adequate  conception  of  the  probable  state 
of  the  world  without  it,  it  is  impossible  to  judge  with 
fairness  or  candor  the  obligations  of  Europe  and  of 
civilization  to  the  Christian  hierarchy. 


310  PUBLIC  SPECTACLES.  Book  IV. 


CHAPTER    IL 

Public  Spectacles. 

The  Greek  and  Roman  inhabitants  of  the  empire  were 
Public  attached  with  equal  intensity  to  their  favorite 

spectacles,  spectacles,  whether  of  more  solemn  religious 
origin,  or  of  lighter  and  more  festive  kind.  These 
amusements  are  perhaps  more  congenial  to  the  south- 
ern character,  from  the  greater  excitability  of  temper- 
ament, the  less  variable  climate,  which  rarely  interferes 
with  enjoyment  in  the  open  air ;  and,  throughout  the 
Roman  world,  they  had  long  been  fostered  by  those 
republican  institutions  which  gave  to  every  citizen  a 
^lace  and  an  interest  in  all  public  ceremonials,  privi- 
leges which,  in  this  respect,  long  outlived  the  institu- 
tions themselves.  The  population  of  the  great  capitals 
had  preserved  only  the  dangerous  and  pernicious  part 
of  freedom,  the  power  of  subsisting  either  without  reg- 
ular industry  or  with  but  moderate  exertion.  The  per- 
petual distribution  of  corn,  and  the  various  largesses 
at  other  times,  emancipated  them  in  a  great  degree 
from  the  wholesome  control  of  their  own  necessities ; 
and  a  vast  and  uneducated  multitude  was  maintained 
in  idle  and  dissolute  inactivity.  It  was  absolutely 
necessary  to  occupy  much  of  this  vacant  time  with 
public  diversions  ;  and  the  invention,  the  wealth,  and 
the  personal  exertions  of  the  higher  orders  were  taxed 
to  gratify  this  insatiable  appetite.  Policy  demanded 
that  which  ambition  and  the  love  of  popularity  had 


Chap.  n.  PUBLIC  SPECTACLES.  311 

freely  supplied  in  the  days  of  the  republic,  and  which 
personal  vanity  continued  to  offer,  though  with  less 
prodigal  and  willing  munificence.  The  more  retired 
and  domestic  habits  of  Christianity  might  in  some 
degree  seclude  a  sect  from  the  public  diversions,  but 
it  could  not  change  the  nature  or  the  inveterate  habits 
of  a  people ;  it  was  either  swept  along  by,  or  contented 
itself  with  giving  a  new  direction  to,  the  impetuous 
and  irresistible  current ;  it  was  obliged  to  substitute 
some  new  excitement  for  that  which  it  peremptorily 
prohibited,  and  reluctantly  to  acquiesce  in  that  which 
it  was  unable  to  suppress. 

Christianity  had  cut  off  that  part  of  the  public 
spectacles  which  belonged  exclusively  to  Paganism. 
Even  if  all  the  temples  at  Rome  were  not,  as  Jerome 
asserts,  covered  with  dust  and  cobwebs,^  yet,  notwith- 
standing the  desperate  efforts  of  the  old  aristocracy, 
the  tide  of  popular  interest,  no  doubt,' set  away  from 
the  deserted  and  mouldering  fanes  of  the  Heathen 
deities,  and  towards  the  churches  of  the  Christians. 
And,  if  this  was  the  case  in  Rome,  at  Constantinople 
and  throughout  the  empire,  the  Pagan  ceremonial  was 
either  extinct,  or  gradually  expiring,  or  lingering  on 
in  unimpressive  regularity.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
modest  and  unimposing  ritual  of  Christianity  natu- 
rally, and  almost  necessarily,  expanded  into  pomp  and 
dignity.  To  the  deep  devotion  of  the  early  Christians 
the  place  and  circumstances  of  worship  were  indiffer- 
ent :  piety  finds  everywhere  its  own  temple.  In  the 
low  and  unfurnished  chamber,  in  the  forest,  in  the 
desert,  in  the  catacomb,  the  Christian  adored  his 
Redeemer,  prayed,  chanted  his  hymn,  and  partook  of 

1  "Fuligine  et  aranearum  telis  omnia  Eomte  templa  cooperta  sunt:  inun- 
dans  populus  ante  delubra  semiruta,  currit  ad  martyrum  tumalos."  —  EpisL 
Ivii.  p.  590. 


312  RELIGIOUS   CEREMONIAL  Book  IV. 

the  sacred  elements.  Devotion  wanted  no  accessories  ; 
faith  needed  no  subsidiary  excitement ;  or,  if  it  did,  it 
found  them  in  the  peril,  the  novelty,  the  adventurous 
and  stirring  character,  of  the  scene,  or  in  the  very 
meanness  and  poverty,  contrasted  with  the  gorgeous 
worship  which  it  had  abandoned ;  in  the  mutual 
attachment,  and  in  the  fervent  emulation,  which 
spreads  throughout  a  small  community. 

But  among  the  more  numerous  and  hereditary  Chris- 
tians of  this  period,  the  temple  and  the  solemn  service 
were  indispensable  to  enforce  and  maintain  the  devo- 
tion. Religion  was  not  strong  enough  to  disdain,  and 
Religious  f^r  too  earnest  to  decline,  any  legitimate 
ceremonial,  j^ggj-^g  ^f  advauciug  hcr  causc.  The  whole 
ceremonial  was  framed  with  the  art  which  arises  out 
of  the  intuitive  perception  of  that  which  is  effective 
towards  its  end.  That  which  was  felt  to  be  awful  was 
adopted  to  enforce  awe ;  that  which  drew  the  people 
to  the  church,  and  affected  their  minds  when  there, 
became  sanctified  to  the  use  of  the  Church.  The 
edifice  itself  arose  more  lofty  with  the  triumph  of  the 
faith,  and  enlarged  itself  to  receive  the  multiplying 
votaries.  Christianity  disdained  that  its  God  and  its 
Redeemer  should  be  less  magnificently  honored  than 
the  demons  of  Paganism.  In  the  service  it  delighted 
to  transfer  and  to  breathe,  as  it  were,  a  sublimer  sense 
into  the  common  appellations  of  the  Pagan  worship, 
whether  from  the  ordinary  ceremonial,  or  the  more 
secret  mysteries.  The  church  became  a  temple  ;  ^  the 
table  of  the  communion,  an  altar ;  the  celebration  of 
the  Eucharist,  the  appalling  or  the  unbloody  sacrifice.^ 
The   ministering    functionaries    multiplied   with    the 

1  Ambrose  and  Lactantius,  and  even  Irenajus,  use  this  term.  See  Binf?- 
ham,  b.  viii.  1,  4. 

2  The  cppcKTi],  or  the  avalfiatcTog  -^vaia. 


CHAP.n.  RELIGIOUS   CEREMONIAL.  813 

variety  of  the  ceremonial;  each  was  consecrated  to 
his  office  by  a  lower  kind  of  ordination  ;  but  a  host  of 
subordinate  attendance  by  degrees  swelled  the  officiate 
ing  train.  The  incense,  the  garlands,  the  lamps,  all 
were  gradually  adopted  by  zealous  rivalry,  or  seized  as 
the  lawful  spoils  of  vanquished  Paganism  and  conse- 
crated to  the  service  of  Christ. 

The  Church  rivalled  the  old  Heathen  mysteries  in 
expanding  by  slow  degrees  its  higher  privileges. 
Christianity  was  itself  the  great  Mystery,  unfolded 
gradually  and  in  general  after  a  long  and  searching 
probation.  It  still  reserved  the  power  of  opening  at 
once  its  gates  to  the  more  distinguished  proselytes,  and 
of  jealously  and  tardily  unclosing  them  to  more 
doubtful  neophytes.  It  permitted  its  sanctuary,  as  it 
were,  to  be  stormed  at  once  by  eminent  virtue  and 
unquestioned  zeal ;  but  the  common  mass  of  mankind 
were  never  allowed  to  consider  it  less  than  a  hard-won 
privilege  to  be  received  into  the  Church;  and  this 
boon  was  not  to  be  dispensed  with  lavish  or  careless 
hands. ^  Its  preparatory  ceremonial  of  abstinence, 
personal  purity,  ablution,  secrecy,  closely  resembled 
that  of  the  Pagan  mysteries  (perhaps  each  may  have 
contributed  to  the  other)  ;  so  the  theologic  dialect 
of  Christianity  spoke  the  same  language.  Yet  Chris- 
tianity substituted  for  the  feverish  enthusiasm  of  some 
of  these  rites,  and  the  phantasmagoric  terrors  of 
others,  with  their  vague  admonitions  to  purity,  a 
searching  but  gently  administered  moral  discipline, 
and  more  sober  religious  excitement.     It  retained,  in- 

1  It  is  one  of  the  bitterest  charges  of  Tertullian  against  the  heretics,  that 
they  did  not  keep  up  this  distinction  between  the  catechumens  and  the 
faithful.  "  Imprimis  quis  catechumenus,  quis  fidelis,  incertum  est :  pariter 
adeunt,  pariter  orant."  Even  the  Heathen  were  admitted;  thus  "  pearls  were 
cast  before  swine."  —  De  Prsescript.  Haeret.  c.  41. 


314  DIVISIONS   OF  THE  CHURCH.  Book  IV 

deed,   much   of  the   dramatic   power,  though   under 
another  form. 

The  divisions  between  the  different  orders  of  wor- 
Divisionsof  shippers  enforced  by  the  sacerdotal  authority, 
the  church.  g^j^(j  observed  with  humble  submission  by  the 
people,  could  not  but  impress  the  mind  with  astonisli- 
ment  and  awe.  The  stranger  on  entering  the  spacious 
open  court,  which  was  laid  out  before  the  more 
splendid  churches,  with  porticos  or  cloisters  on  each 
side,  beheld  first  the  fountain  or  tank,  where  the 
worshippers  were  expected  to  wash  their  hands,  and 
purify  themselves,  as  it  were,  for  the  divine  presence. 
Lingering  in  these  porticos,  or  approaching  timidly 
the  threshold  which  they  dared  not  pass,  or,  at  the 
farthest,  entering;  only  into  the  first  porch,  or 

The  porch.  .,      i     i  i  •  -.      i  ->•      •    i 

vestibule,^  and  pressmg  around  the  disciples 
to  solicit  their  prayers,  he  would  observe  men,  pale, 
dejected,  clad  in  sackcloth,  oppressed  with  the  pro- 
found consciousness  of  their  guilt,  acquiescing  in  the 
justice  of  the  ecclesiastical  censure  which  altogether 

1  There  is  much  difficulty  and  confusion  respecting  these  divisions  of  the 
church.  The  fact  probably  is,  that,  according  to  the  period  or  the  local  cir- 
stances,  the  structure  and  the  arrangement  were  more  or  less  complicated. 
TertuUian  says  distinctly,  "  non  modo  limine  vevum  omni  ecclesite  tecto  sub- 
movemus."  Where  the  churches  were  of  a  simpler  form,  and  had  no  roofed 
narthex  or  vestibule,  these  penitents  stood  in  the  open  court  before  the 
church;  even  later,  the  "  flentes  "  and  the  "hiemantes"  formed  a  particular 
class. 

A  canon  of  St.  Gregoiy  Thaumaturgus  gives  the  clearest  view  of  these 
arrangements:  'H  TrpoaK/iavcng  i^co  Tfjg  TTvTirjg  tov  evKTrjpiov  eaflv,  evda 
earojTa  tov  dftaprdvovTa  X9V  '''^'^  eIgiovtcov  delaOat  tccgtuv  virep  avTOv 
eix^oOac-  i]  uKpoaatg  hdodi  TJ)g  TrvXrjg  kv  rw  vdpdrjKi,  hOa  laruvai 
XPV  TOV  rjfiaprrjKOTa,  ^ug  tuv  KarTjxovf^ivcov,  aal  IvtevBev  k^epxsadat,' 
cLKOvuv  yap  (l>rial  tuv  ypaipuv  Koi  Trig  ScdaanaMag,  kniSakeadu,  kol  (ifi 
d^Lovado)  Tzpoaevxw  V  ^^  VTroTrTuaig,  Iva  eaudev  Tfjg  Tvvhfjg  tov  vaov 
ioTdftevog,  (ietu,  tuv  KaTTJXOVfievuv  e^ipxvTaL-  i]  avGTaaig,  Iva  avvioTaTai. 
Tolg  TTLGTolg  Kal  fiy  i^epxTjTat  fxeTu  tuv  KaTrjxov/ievuv  t£^£vt(uov  h 
uide^ig  tuv  dyLaa/j,dTuv.  —  Apud  Labbe,  Cone.  i.  p.  842. 


Chap.  n.  THE  NARTHEX.  315 

excluded  them  from  the  Christian  community.  These 
were  the  first  class  of  penitents,  men  of  ^^^^ 
notorious  guilt,  whom  only  a  long  period  of  penitents. 
this  humiliating  probation  could  admit  even  within 
the  hearing  of  the  sacred  service.  As  he  advanced  to 
the  gates,  he  must  pass  the  scrutiny  of  the  door- 
keepers, who  guarded  the  admission  into  the  church, 
and  distributed  each  class  of  worshippers  into  their 
proper  place.  The  stranger,  whether  Heathen  or 
Jew,  might  enter  into  the  part  assigned  to  the  cate- 
chumens or  novices  and  the  penitents  of  the  second 
order  (the  hearers),  that  he  might  profit  by  the  reli- 
gious instruction.^     He  found  himself  in  the 

°  The  narthes. 

first  division  of  the  main  body  of  the  church, 
of  which  the  walls  were  lined  by  various  marbles,  the 
roof  often  ceiled  with  mosaic,  and  supported  by  lofty 
columns  with  gilded  capitals ;  the  doors  were  inlaid 
with  ivory  or  silver ;  the  distant  altar  glittered  with 
precious  stones. ^  In  the  midst  of  the  nave  stood  the 
pulpit,  or  reading-desk  (the  ambo),  around  which 
were  arranged  the  singers,  who  chanted  to  the  most 
solemn  music,  poetry,  much  of  it  familiar  to  the  Jew, 
as  belonging  to  his  own  sacred  writings,  to  the  Heathen 

1  This  part  of  the  church  was  usually  called  the  narthex.  But  this  term, 
I  believe,  of  the  sixth  century,  was  not  used  with  great  precision,  or  rather 
perhaps  was  applied  to  different  parts  of  the  church,  according  to  their  greater 
or  less  complexity  of  structure.  It  is  sometimes  used  for  the  porch  or  vesti- 
bule: i^  this  sense  there  were  several  nartheces  (St.  Sophia  had  four). 
Mamachi  (vol.  i.  p.  216)  insists  that  it  was  divided  from  the  nave  by  a  wall. 
But  this  cannot  mean  the  narthex  into  which  the  uKpoufievoi  were  admitted, 
as  the  object  of  their  admission  was  that  they  might  hear  the  service. 

"  Episcopus  nullum  prohibeat  intrare  ecclesiam,  et  audire  verbum  Dei,  sive 
hsereticum,  sive  Judseum  usque  ad  missam  catechumenorum."  —  Concil.  Car- 
thag.  iv.  c.  84. 

2  "  Alii  aedificent  ecclesias,  vestiant  parietes  marmorum  crustis,  columna- 
nmi  moles  advehant,  earumque  deaurent  capita,  pretiosum  ornatum  non  sen- 
tientia,  ebore  argentoque  valvas,  et  gemmis  distinguant  altaria.  Non 
reprehendo,  non  abnuo."  —  Hieronym.  Epist.  viii.  ad  Demetriad. 


316  THE  PREACHER.  Book  IV. 

full  of  the  noblest  images,  expressive  of  the  divine 
power  and  goodness ;  adapting  itself  with  the  most 
exquisite  versatility  to  every  devout  emotion,  melting 
into  the  most  pathetic  tenderness,  or  swelling  out  into 
the  most  appalling  grandeur.  The  pulpit  was  then 
ascended  by  one  of  the  inferior  order,  the  reader  of 
certain  portions  or  extracts  from  the  sacred  volumes, 
in  which  God  himself  spoke  to  the  awe-struck  auditory. 
He  was  succeeded  by  an  orator  of  a  higher  dignity,  a 
presbyter  or  a  bishop,  who  sometimes  addressed  the 
people  from  the  steps  which  led  up  to  the  chancel, 
sometimes  chose  the  more  convenient  and  elevated 
The  position  of  the  ambo.^     He  was  a  man  usually 

preacher,  ^f  ^|^q  higliGst  attainments  and  eloquence, 
and  instead  of  the  frivolous  and  subtile  questions 
which  the  Pagan  was  accustomed  to  hear  in  the 
schools  of  rhetoric  or  philosophy,  he  fearlessly  agitated 
and  peremptorily  decided  on  such  eternally  and  uni- 
versally awakening  topics  as  the  responsibility  of  man 
before  God,  the  immortality  and  future  destination  of 
the  soul,  —  topics  of  which  use  could  not  deaden  the 
interest  to  the  believer,  but  which,  to  an  unaccustomed 
ear,  were  as  startling  as  important.  The  mute  atten- 
tion of  the  whole  assembly  was  broken  only  by  uncon- 
trollable acclamations,  which  frequently  interrupted 
the  more  moving  preachers.  Around  the  pulpit  was 
the  last  order  of  penitents,  who  prostrated  themselves 
in  humble  homage  during  the  prayers  and  the  bene- 
diction of  the  bishop. 

1  Chn'soptom  generally  preached  from  the  ambo.  —  Socr.  vi.  5;  Sozomen, 
viii.  5.    Both  usages  prevailed  in  the  West. 

Seu  te  conspicuis  gradibus  venerabilis  arae 
Concioaaturum  plebs  sedula  circumsistat. 

Sill.  Apollon.  can.  xvi. 
Tronte  sub  adverse  gradibus  sublime  tribunal 
Tollitur,  antistes  praedicat  unde  Deum. 

Prudent.  Hymn,  ad  Hippolyt. 


CHAP.n.  THE  ALTAR.  317 

Here  the  steps  of  the  profane  stranger  must  pause ; 
an  insuperable  barrier,  which  he  could  not  pass  without 
violeixce,  secluded  the  initiate  from  the  society  of  the 
less  perfect.  Yet,  till  the  more  secret  ceremonial 
began,  he  might  behold,  at  dim  and  respectful  distance, 
the  striking  scene,  first  of  the  baptized  worshippers  in 
their  order,  the  females  in  general  in  galleries  above 
(the  virgins  separate  from  the  matrons).  Bejond,  in 
still  further  secluded  sanctity,  on  an  elevated  semi- 
circle, around  the  bishop,  sat  the  clergy,  attended  by 
the  sub-deacons,  acolyths,  and  those  of  inferior  order. 
Even  the  gorgeous  throne  of  the  emperor  was  below 
this  platform.  Before  them  was  the  mystic  and  awful 
table,  the  altar,  as  it  began  to  be  called  in  the  fourth 
century,  over  which  was  sometimes  suspended  a  richly 
wrought  canopy  (the  ciborium) :  the  altar  was  covered 
with  fine  linen.  In  the  third  century,  the  simpler 
vessels  of  glass  or  other  cheap  material  had  given 
place  to  silver  and  gold.  In  the  later  persecutions, 
the  cruelty  of  the  Heathen  was  stimulated  by  their 
avarice ;  and  some  of  the  sufferers,  while  they  bore 
their  own  agonies  with  patience,  were  grieved  to  the 
heart  to  see  the  sacred  vessels  pillaged,  and  turned  to 
profane  or  indecent  uses.  Li  the  Eastern  churches, 
richly  embroidered  curtains  overshadowed  the  ap- 
proach to  the  altar,  or  light  doors  secluded  altogether 
the  Holy  of  Holies  from  the  profane  gaze  of  the  multi- 
tude. 

Such  was  the  ordinary  Christian  ceremonial  as  it 
addressed  the  mass  of  mankind.  But  at  a  certain 
time,  the  uninitiate  were  dismissed,  the  veil  was 
dropped  which  shrouded  the  hidden  rites,  the  doors 
were  closed,  profane  steps  might  not  cross  the  thresh- 
old of  the  baptistery,  or  linger  in  the  church,  when 


318         SECRECY  OF  THE  SACRAMENTS.     Book  IV. 

the  liturgy  of  the  faithful,  the  office  of  the  Eucharist, 
began.  The  veil  of  concealment  was  first  spread  over 
the  peculiar  rites  of  Christianity  from  caution.  The 
religious  assemblies  were,  strictly  speaking,  unlawful, 
Secrecy  of  the  ^^^^  ^^^^7  wcrc  sliroudcd  iu  sccrccy  lest  they 
sacraments.  si;iould  bc  disturbcd  by  the  intrusion  of  tiieir 
watchful  enemies ;  ^  and  it  was  this  unavoidable 
secrecy  wliich  gave  rise  to  the  frightful  fables  of  the 
Heathen  concerning  the  nature  of  these  murderous  or 
incestuous  banquets.  As  they  could  not  be  public, 
of  necessity  they  took  the  form  of  mysteries,  and  as 
mysteries  became  objects  of  jealousy  and  of  awe.  As 
the  assemblies  became  more  public,  that  seclusion  of 
the  more  solemn  rites  was  retained  from  dread  and 
reverence,  which  was  commenced  from  fear.  Though 
profane  curiosity  no  longer  dared  to  take  a  hostile 
character,  it  was  repelled  from  the  sacred  ceremony. 
Of  the  mingled  multitude,  Jews  and  Heathens,  the  in- 
cipient believers,  the  hesitating  converts,  who  must  be 
permitted  to  hear  the  Gospel  of  Christ  or  the  address 
of  the  preacher,  none  could  be  admitted  to  the  sacra- 
ments. It  was  natural  to  exclude  them,  not  merely 
by  regulation  and  by  the  artificial  division  of  the 
church  into  separate  parts,  but  by  the  majesty  which 
invested  the  last  solemn  rites.  That  which  had  con- 
cealed itself  from  fear,  became  itself  fearful ;  it  was  no 
longer  a  timid  mystery  which  fled  the  light,  but  an 
unapproachable  communion  with  the  Deity,  which 
would  not  brook  profane  intrusion.  It  is  an  extraor- 
dinary indication  of  the  power  of  Christianity,  that 
rites  in  themselves  so  simple,  and  of  which  the  nature, 
after  all  the  concealment,  could  not  but  be  known, 

1  "Tot  hostes  ejus,  quot  extranei  .  .  .  quotidi6  obsideniur,  quotidi6  pro- 
dimur,  in  ipsis  plurimum  ccetibus  et  congregationibus  opprimimur."  —  Ter- 
tull.  Apologet.  7. 


CuAP.II.  SECRECY  OF  THE  SACRAMENTS.  319 

should  assume  such  unquestioned  majesty  ;  that,  how- 
ever significant,  the  simple  lustration  by  water,  and 
the  partaking  of  bread  and  wine,  should  so  affect  the 
awe-struck  imagination,  as  to  make  men  suppose 
themselves  ignorant  of  what  these  sacraments  really 
were,  and  even  when  the  high-wrought  expectations 
were  at  length  gratified,  to  experience  no  dissatisfac- 
tion at  their  plain  and  in  themselves  un appalling 
ceremonies.  The  mysteriousness  was  no  doubt  fed 
and  heightened  by  the  regulations  of  the  clergy,  and 
by  the  impressiveness  of  the  service,^  but  it  grew  of 
itself  out  of  the  profound  and  general  religious  senti- 
ment. The  baptistery  and  the  altar  were  closed 
against  the  uninitiate,  but  if  they  had  been  open,  men 
would  scarcely  have  ventured  to  approach  them.  The 
knowledge  of  the  nature  of  the  sacraments  was 
reserved  for  the  baptized ;  but  it  was  because  the 
minds  of  the  unbaptized  were  sealed  by  trembling 
reverence,  and  shuddered  to  anticipate  the  forbidden 
knowledge.  The  hearers  had  a  vague  knowledge  of 
these  mysteries  floating  around  them ;  the  initiate 
heard  it  within .^  To  add  to  the  impressiveness,  night 
was  sometimes  spread  over  the  Christian  as  over  the 
Pagan  mysteries.^ 

1  This  was  the  avowed  object  of  the  clergy.  "  Catechumenis  sacramenta 
fidelium  non  produntur,  non  ideo  fit,  quod  ea  ferre  noii  possunt,  sed  ut  ab  eis 
tanto  ardentius  concupiscantur,  quanto  houorabilius  occultantur."  —  Augus- 
tin.  in  Johan.  96.  "  Mortalium  generi  natura  datum  est,  ut  abstrusa  fortius 
quapxat,  ut  negata  magis  ambiat,  ut  tardius  adepta  plus  diligat,  et  eo  flagran- 
tius  ametur  Veritas,  quo  vel  diutius  desideratur,  vel  laboriosius  queeritur,  vel 
tardius  invenitur."  —  Claudius  Mamert,  quoted  by  Casaubou  in  Baron,  p. 
497. 

2  The  inimitable  pregnancy  of  the  Greek  language  expresses  this  by  two 
verbs,  differently  compounded.  Cyril  of  Jerusalem,  in  his  Procatechesis, 
states  the  catechumens  irepirixdadaL,  the  faithful  ev7]X£lcdat,  by  the  meaning 
of  the  mysteries. 

8  '•'  Noctu  ritus  multi  in  mysteriis  pergebantur ;  noctu  etiam  initiatio  Chris- 
tianorum  inchoabatur."  —  Casaubon  (p.  490),  with  the  quotations  subjoined 


320  BAPTISM.  Book  IV. 

At  Easter,  and  at  Pentecost,^  and  in  some  places  at 
the  Epiphany,  the  rite  of  baptism  was  admin- 
ap  ism.  iste^ed  publicly  (that  is,  in  the  presence  of 
the  faithful)  to  all  the  converts  of  the  year,  excepting 
those  few  instances  in  which  it  had  been  expedient  to 
perform  the  ceremony  without  delay,  or  where  the 
timid  Christian  put  it  off  till  the  close  of  life  ;  ^  a  prac- 
tice for  a  long  time  condemned  in  vain  by  the  clergy. 
But  the  fact  of  the  delay  shows  how  deeply  the  impor- 
tance and  efficacy  of  the  rite  were  rooted  in  the  Cju^s- 
tian  mind.  It  was  a  complete  lustration  of  the  soul. 
The  neophyte  emerged  from  the  waters  of  baptism  in 
a  state  of  perfect  innocence.  The  dove  (the  Holy 
Spirit)  was  constantly  hovering  over  the  font,  and 
sanctifying  the  waters  to  the  mysterious  ablution  of  all 
the  sins  of  the  passed  life.  If  the  soul  suffered  no 
subsequent  taint,  it  passed  at  once  to  the  realms  of 
purity  and  bliss ;  the  heart  was  purified ;  the  under- 
standing illuminated ;  the  spirit  was  clothed  with  im 
mortality.^     Robed  in  white,  emblematic  of  spotless 

This  might  have  originated  in  the  vigil  of  Easter  be'ng  thus  prolonged  to 
midnight.  It  was  an  old  Jewdsh  tradition  that  the  Messiah  would  come  at 
the  Passover  at  midnight.  "  Dicamus  aliquid,  quod  forsitan  lectori  utile  sit. 
Traditio  Judaeorum  est  Christum  media  nocte  venturum  in  similitudinem 
.^g^'ptii  temporis,  quando  Pascha  celebratum  est,  et  exterminator  venit  et 
Dominus  super  tabernacula  transiit  et  sanguine  agni  postes  nostrarum  fron- 
tium  consecrati  sunt.  Unde  reor  traditionem  apostolicam  permansisse  ut  lu 
die  vigiliarum  paschae  ante  noctis  dimidium  populos  dimittere  non  liceat  ex- 
pectantes  adventum  Christi,  et  postquam  illud  tempus  transierit,  securitate 
praesumta  festum  cunctis  agentibus  diem."  —  Hieron.  in  Matt.  24. 

1  At  Constantinople,  it  appears  from  Chrj^sostom,  baptism  did  not  take 
place  at  Pentecost.  —  Montfaucon,  Diatribe,  p.  179. 

2  The  memorable  example  of  Constantine  ma}^,  for  a  time,  not  only  have 
illustrated,  but  likewise  confirmed,  the  practice. 

3  Gregory  of  Nazianzum  almost  exhausts  the  copiousness  of  the  Greek 
language  in  speaking  of  baptism:  dcjpov  Ka?MVfj,ev,  x^P'^^H'^)  (SanTtajLia, 
XptG/J.a,  (jxjTcaiia,  iKpdapaiag  evdvfia,  TiovTpov  TcaTity-yeveclag,  a(ppa}46a,  ndv 
5n  rifiLOV.  —  Orat.  xl.  de  Baptism. 

Almost  all  the  Fathers  of  this  age  —  Basil,  the  two  Gregories,  Ambrose 


Chap.  II.  EUCHARIST.  321 

purity ,1  the  candidate  approached  the  baptistery,  in  the 
larger  churches  a  separate  building.  There  he  uttered 
the  solemn  vows  which  pledged  him  to  his  religion. ^ 
The  symbolizing  genius  of  the  East  added  some  signifi- 
cant ceremonies.  The  catechumen  turned  to  the 
West,  the  realm  of  Satan,  and  thrice  renounced  his 
power;  he  turned  to  the  East  to  adore  the  Sun  of 
Righteousness,'^  and  to  proclaim  his  compact  with  the 
Lord  of  Life.  The  mystic  trinal  number  prevailed 
throughout;  the  vow  was  threefold,  and  thrice  pro- 
nounced. The  baptism  was  usually  by  immersion: 
the  stripping  off  the  clothes  was  emblematic  of  "  put- 
ting off  the  old  man  ; "  but  baptism  by  sprinkling  was 
allowed,  according  to  the  exigency  of  the  case.  The 
water  itself  became,  in  the  vivid  language  of  the 
Church,  the  blood  of  Christ:  it  was  compared,  by  a 
fanciful  analogy,  to  the  Red  Sea:  the  daring  meta- 
phors of  some  of  the  Fathers  might  seem  to  assert  a 
transmutation  of  its  color. ^ 

The  sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper  imperceptibly 
acquired  the  solemnity,  the  appellation,  of  a 
sacrifice.     The  poetry  of  devotional  language 
kindled  into  the  most  vivid  and  realizing  expressions 
of  awe  and  adoration.     No  imagery  could  be  too  bold, 
no  words  too  glowing,  to  impress  the  soul  more  pro- 

(De  Sacram),  Augustine  —  have  treatises  on  baptism,  and  vie,  as  it  were,  with 
each  other  in  their  praises  of  its  importance  and  efficacy. 
1  Unde  parens  sacro  ducit  de  fonte  sacerdos 
Infantes  niveos  corpore,  corde,  habitu. 

Paulin.  ad  Sevei. 

2  Chrysostom,  in  two  places,  gives  the  Eastern  profession  of  faith,  which 
was  extremely  simple :  "  I  renounce  Satan,  his  pomp  and  worship,  and  am 
united  to  Christ.  I  believe  in  the  resurrection  of  the  dead."  See  references 
in  Moutfaucon,  ubi  supra. 

3  Cyril.  Catech.  Mystag.  Hieronym.  in  Amos  vi.  14. 

4  "  Unde  rubet  Baptismus  Christi,  nisi  Christi  sanguine  consecratur."  — 
Augustin.  Tract,  in  Johan.    Compare  Bingham,  xi.  10,  4. 

VOL.    III.  21 


322  EUCHARIST.  Book  IV. 

fouiidly  with  the  sufferings,  the  divinity,  the  intimate 
union  of  the  Redeemer  with  his  disciples.  The  invisi- 
ble presence  of  the  Lord,  which  the  devout  felt  within 
the  whole  church,  but  more  particularly  in  its  more 
holy  and  secluded  part,  was  gradually  concentrated,  as 
it  were,  upon  the  altar.  The  mysterious  identification 
of  the  Redeemer  with  the  consecrated  elements  was 
first  felt  by  the  mind,  till,  at  a  later  period,  a  material 
and  corporeal  transmutation  began  to  be  asserted :  that 
which  the  earlier  Fathers,  in  their  boldest  figure,  called 
a  bloodless  sacrifice,  became  an  actual  oblation  of  the 
body  and  blood  of  Christ.  But  all  these  fine  and  sub- 
tile distinctions  belong  to  a  later  theology.^  In  the 
dim  vagueness,  in  the  ineffable  and  inexplicable  mys- 
tery, consisted  much  of  its  impressiveness  on  the 
believer,  the  awe  and  dread  of  the  uninitiate. 

These  sacraments  were  the  sole  real  mysteries :  their 
nature  and  effects  were  the  hidden  knowledge  which 
was  revealed  to  the  perfect  alone. ^  In  Alexandria, 
where  the  imitation  or  rivalry  of  the  ancient  mysteries, 
in  that  seat  of  the  Platonic  learning,  was  most  likely 
to  prevail,  the  catechetical  school  of  Origen  attempted 
to  form  the  simpler  truths  of  the  Gospel  into  a  regular 
and  progressive  system  of  development.^     The  works 

1  "  Quid  est  quod  occultum  est  et  non  publicum  in  Ecclesia,  Sacramentum 
Baptisrai,  Sacramentum  Eucharistise.  Opera  nostra  bona  vident  et  Pagani, 
Sacramenta  vero  occultantur  illis."  —  Augustin.,  in  Psalm  103.  Ordination 
appears  to  have  been  a  secret  rite.  —  Casaubon,  p.  496.  Compare  this  treatise 
of  Casaubon,  the  fourteenth  of  his  Exercitationes  Anti-Baroniante,  which,  in 
general,  is  profound  and  judicious. 

2  Upon  this  ground  rests  the  famous  Disciplina  Arcani,  that  esoteric  doc- 
trine, within  which  lurked  every  thing  which  later  ages  thought  proper  to 
dignify  by  the  name  of  the  traditions  of  the  Church.  This  theory  was  first 
fiilly  developed  by  Schelstrate,  "  De  Disciplina  Arcani,"  and  is  very  clearly 
stated  in  Pagi,  sub  Ann.  118.  It  rests  chiefly  on  a  passage  of  Origen  (conti-a 
Gels  i.  7),  who,  after  asserting  the  publicity  of  the  main  doctrines  of  Chris- 
tianity, the  incarnation,  passion,  and  resurrection  of  Christ,  and  the  general 
resurrection  to  judgment,  admits  that  Christianity,  like  philosophy,  had  some 


Chap.  H.  CHRISTIAN  FUNERALS.  323 

of  Clement  of  Alexandria  were  progressive,  addressed 
to  the  Heathen,  the  catechumen,  the  perfect  Christian. 
But  the  doctrine  which  was  there  reserved  for  the 
initiate  had  a  strange  tinge  of  Platonic  mysticism.  In 
the  Church  in  general,  the  only  esoteric  doctrine,  as  I 
have  said,  related  to  the  Sacraments.  After  the  agita- 
tion of  the  Trinitarian  question,  there  seems  to  have 
been  some  desire  to  withdraw  that  holy  mystery  like- 
wise from  the  gaze  of  the  profane,  which  the  popular 
tumults,  the  conflicts  between  the  Arians  and  Athana- 
siaus  of  the  lowest  orders,  in  the  streets  of  Constanti- 
nople and  Alexandria,  show  to  have  been  by  no  means 
successful.  The  apocalyptic  hymn,  the  Trisagion, 
makes  a  part  indeed  of  all  the  older  liturgies,  which 
belong  to  the  end  of  the  third  or  beginning  of  the 
fourth  century.  Even  the  simple  prayer  of  our  Lord, 
which  might  seem  appropriate  to  universal  man,  and 
so  intended  by  the  Saviour  himself,  was  considered  too 
holy  to  be  uttered  by  unbaptized  lips.  It  was  said 
that  none  but  the  baptized  could  properly  address  the 
Almighty  as  his  Father.^ 

That  care  which  Christianity  had  assumed  over  the 
whole  life  of  man,  it  did  not  abandon  after  ci^ristian 
death.  In  that  solemn  season,  it  took  in  ^"'^^^*^- 
charge  the  body,  which,  though  mouldering  into  dust, 
was  to  be  revived  for  the  resurrection.  The  respect 
and  honor  which  human  nature  pays  to  the  remains  of 
the  dead,  and  which,  among  the  Greeks  especially,  had 
a  strong  religious  hold  upon  the  feelings,  was  still 
more  profoundly  sanctified  by  the  doctrines  and  usages 
of  Christianity.     The  practice  of  inhumation  which 

secret  and  esoteric  doctrines.  Pagi  argues,  that,  as  the  Trinity  was  not 
among  the  public,  it  must  have  been  among  the  esoteric  tenets.  There  is  no 
real  ground  for  it. 

1  Bingham,  i.  4,  7,  and  x.  5,  9. 


324  CHRISTIAN  FUNERALS.  Book  IV. 

prevailed  iu  Egypt  and  Syria,  and  in  other  parts  of  the 
East,  was  gradually  extended  over  the  whole  Western 
world,  by  Christianity.^  The  funeral  pyre  went  out  of 
use  ;  and  the  cemeteries,  which  from  the  earliest  period 
belonged  to  the  Christians,  were  gradually  enlarged  for 
the  general  reception,  not  of  the  ashes  only  in  their 
urns,  but  for  the  entire  remains  of  the  dead.  The 
Eastern  practice  of  embalming  was  so  general,^  that 
Tertullian  boasts  that  the  Christians  consumed  more 
of  the  merchandise  of  Sabaea  in  their  interments  than 
the  Heathens  in  their  fumigations  before  the  altars  of 
their  gods.^  The  general  tone  of  the  simple  inscrip- 
tions spoke  of  death  but  as  a  sleep ;  "he  sleeps  in 
peace  "  was  the  common  epitaph :  the  very  name  of 
the  enclosure,  the  cemetery^  implied  the  same  trust  in 
its  temporary  occupancy ;  those  who  were  committed 
to  the  earth  only  awaited  the  summons  to  a  new  life.* 

1  "  Nee,  ut  creditis,  ullum  damnum  sepulturae  timemus,  sed  veterem  et 
meliorem  consuetudinem  humandi  frequentamus."  The  speaker  goes  on,  in 
very  elegant  language,  to  adduce  the  analogy  of  the  death  and  revival  of 
nature:  "Expectandura  etiam  nobis  corporis  ver  est."  —  Minuc.  Fel.,  edit. 
Ouzel,  p.  327. 

During  the  time  of  the  plague  in  Alexandria  and  Carthage,  the  Christians 
not  only  buried  their  own  dead,  but  likewise  those  of  the  Pagans.  —  Dion. 
Alex,  apud  Euseb.  Hist.  vii.  22.  Pontius,  in  Vita.  Cypriani.  Compare  a 
curious  essay  in  the  Vermischte  Schriften  of  Biittiger,  iii.  14.  Verbreimea 
Oder'  Beerdigen. 

2  Titulumque  et  frigida  saxa 
Liquido  spargemus  odore. 

Prudent.  Hym.  de  Exeq. 
Martyris  hi  tumulum  studeant  perfundere  nardo  ; 
Et  medicata  pio  referant  unguenta  sepulcro. 

Paul.  Nol.  in  Nat.  S.  Fel. 

8  Apologet.  c.  42.  Boldetti  affirms  that  these  odors  were  plainly  percep- 
tible on  opening  some  of  the  Christian  cemeteries  at  Rome.  See  Mamachi, 
Costumi  dei  Christiaui,  iii.  p.  83.  The  judge,  in  the  Acts  of  Tarachus  (Rui- 
nart,  p.  385),  says,  "  You  expect  that  your  women  will  bury  your  body  with 
ointments  and  spikes." 

*  Hinc  maxima  cura  sepulchris 
Impenditur,  hinc  resolutos 


Chap.  IL  WORSHIP  OF  THE  MARTYRS.  325 

Gradually  the  cemetery  was,  in  some  places,  closely 
connected  with  the  church.  Where  the  rigid  interdict 
against  burying  within  the  walls  of  cities  was  either 
inapplicable  or  not  enforced,  the  open  court  before  the 
church  became  the  place  of  burial.^ 

Christian  funerals  began  early  in  their  period  of 
security  and  opulence  to  be  celebrated  with  great 
magnificence.  Jerome  compares  the  funeral  proces- 
sion of  Fabiola  to  the  triumphs  of  Camillus,  Scipio,  or 
Pompey.  The  character  of  this  female,  who  founded 
the  first  hospital  in  Rome,  and  lavished  a  splendid 
fortune  in  alms-giving,  may  have  mainly  contributed 
to  the  strong  interest  excited  by  her  interment.  All 
Rome  was  poured  forth.  The  streets,  the  windows, 
the  tops  of  houses,  were  crowded  with  spectators. 
Processions  of  youths  and  of  old  men  preceded  the 
bier,  chanting  the  praises  of  the  deceased.  As  it 
passed,  the  churches  were  crowded,  and  psalms  were 
sung,  and  their  golden  roofs  rang  with  the  sublime 
Alleluia. 

The  doctrine  of  the  resurrection  of  the  body  deepened 
the  common  and  natural  feeling  of  respect  for   worship  of 
the  remains  of  the  dead :  ^  the  worship  of  the 

Honor  ultimas  accipit  artus 
Et  funeris  ambitus  ornat. 


the  martyrs. 


Quid  nam  tibi  saxa  cavata, 
Quid  pulchra  Tolunt  monumenta? 
Res  quod  nisi  creditur  illis 
Non  mortua,  sed  data  somno. 

Prudent,  in  Exeq.  Defunct. 

1  There  is  a  law  of  Gratian,  Valentinian,  and  Theodosius,  forbidding 
burial,  or  the  deposition  of  urns  (which  shows  that  cremation  was  still  com- 
mon), within  the  walls  of  Constantinople,  even  within  the  cemeteries  of  the 
apostles  or  martyrs.  —  Cod.  Theod.  ix.  17.  6. 

2  In  one  of  the  very  curious  essays  of  il.  Raoul  Rochette,  Memoires  de 
I'Acad^mie,  he  has  illustrated  the  extraordinary  care  with  which  the  Heathen 
buried,  along  with  the  remains  of  the  dead,  every  kind  of  utensil,  implement 
of  trade,  down  to  the  dolls  of  children ;  even  food,  and  knives  and  forks.    This 


326  WORSHIP   OF  THE  MARTYRS.  Book  IV. 

relics  of  saints  and  martyrs  still  farther  contributed 
to  the  same  effect.  If  the  splendid  but  occasional 
ceremony  of  the  apotheosis  of  the  deceased  emperor 
was  exploded,  a  ceremony  which,  lavished  as  it  fre- 
quently had  been  on  the  worst  and  basest  of  mankind, 
however  it  might  amuse  and  excite  the  populace, 
could  not  but  provoke  the  contempt  of  the  virtuous ; 
in  the  Christian  world,  a  continual,  and  in  some  re- 
spects more  rational,  certainly  more  modest,  apotheosis 
was  constantly  celebrated.     The  more  distinguished 

appears  from  all  the  tombs  which  are  opened,  from  the  most  ancient  Etruscan 
to  the  most  modern  Heathen  sepulchres.  "  II  y  avait  la  une  notion  conftise 
et  grossi^re  sans  doute  de  I'immortalite  de  Tame,  mais  il  s'y  trouvait  aussi  la 
preuve  sensible  et  palpable  de  cet  instinct  de  Thomme,  qui  r^pugne  a  I'id^e 
de  la  destruction  de  son  etre,  et  qui  y  resiste  de  toutes  les  forces  de  son  intel- 
ligence et  de  toutes  les  erreurs  meme  de  la  raison." — p.  689.  But  it  is  a 
more  remarkable  fact,  that  the  Christians  long  adhered  to  the  same  usages, 
notwithstanding  the  purer  and  loftier  notions  of  another  life  bestowed  by  their 
religion.  "  La  premiere  observation  qui  s'offre  a  Boldetti  lui-meme  et  qui 
deATa  frapper  tons  les  esprits,  c'est  qu'en  d^corant  les  tombeaux  de  leurs 
fr6res  de  tant  d'objets  de  pur  ornement,  ou  d'usage  r^el,  les  Chretiens  n'a- 
vaient  pu  etre  diriges  que  par  ce  motif  d'esperance  qui  leur  faisait  considerer 
le  tombeau  comrae  un  lieu  de  passage,  d'ofi  ils  devaient  sortir  avec  toutes  les 
conditions  de  I'immortalite,  et  la  mort,  comme  un  sommeil  paisible,  an  sein 
duquel  il  ne  pouvait  leur  etre  indifferent  de  se  trouver  environnds  des  objets 
qui  leur  avaient  ^t^  chers  durant  la  vieou  de  I'image  de  ces  objets."  —  torn, 
xiii.  p.  692. 

The  Heathen  practice  of  burying  money,  sometimes  large  sums,  with  the 
dead,  was  the  cause  of  the  very  severe  laws  against  the  violations  of  the 
tombs.  In  fact,  these  treasures  were. so  great  as  to  be  a  source  of  revenue, 
which  the  government  was  unwilling  to  share  with  unlicensed  plunderers. 
"  Et  si  aurum,  ut  dicitur,  vel  argentum  fuerit  tua  indagatione  detectum,  com- 
pendio  publico  lideliter  vindicabis,  ita  tamen  ut  abstineatis  a  cineribus  mor- 
tuorum.  ^dificia  tegant  cineres,  columns  vel  marmora  ornent  sepulcra: 
talenta  non  teneant,  qui  commercia  virorum  reliquerunt.  Aurum  enim  juste 
sepulcro  detrahitur,  ubi  dominus  non  habetur;  imo  culpa;  genus  est  inutili- 
ter  abdita  relinquere  mortuorum,  unde  se  vita  potest  sustentare  viventium." 
Such  are  the  instructions  of  the  minister  of  Theodoric.  —  Cassiod.  Var. 
iv.  34. 

But  it  is  still  more  strange,  that  the  Christians  continued  this  practice, 
particularly  of  the  piece  of  money  in  the  mouth,  which  the  Heathen  intended 
for  the  payment  of  Charon.  It  continued  to  the  time  of  Thomas  Aquinas, 
who,  according  to  M.  R.  Rochette,  wrote  against  it. 


CfiAP.  n.  FESTIVALS.  327 

Christians  were  dismissed,  if  not  to  absolute  deifica- 
tion, to  immortality,  to  a  state,  in  which  they  retained 
profound  interest  in,  and  some  influence  over,  the 
condition  of  men.  During  the  perilous  and  gloomy 
days  of  persecution,  the  reverence  for  those  who  en- 
dured martyrdom  for  tlie  religion  of  Christ  had  grown 
up  out  of  the  best  feelings  of  man's  improved  nature. 
Reverence  gradually  grew  into  veneration,  worship, 
adoration.  Although  the  more  rigid  theology  main- 
tained a  marked  distinction  between  the  honors  shown 
to  the  martyrs  and  that  addressed  to  the  Redeemer 
and  the  Supreme  Being,  the  line  was  too  fine  and 
invisible  not  to  be  transgressed  by  excited  popular 
feeling.  The  Heathen  writers  constantly  taunt  the 
Christians  with  the  substitution  of  the  new  idolatry 
for  the  old.  The  charge  of  worshipping  dead  men's 
bones  and  the  remains  of  malefactors,  constantly  re- 
curs. A  Pagan  philosopher,  as  late  as  the  fourth 
century,  contemptuously  selects  some  barbarous  names 
of  African  martyrs,  and  inquires  whether  they  are 
more  worthy  objects  of  worship  than  Minerva  or 
Jove.^ 

The  festivals  in  honor  of  the  martyrs  were  avowedly 
instituted,  or  at  least  conducted  on  a  sump-    ^  ^.  , 

'  _  ^        Festivals. 

tuous  scale,  in  rivalry  of  the  banquets  which 

formed  so  important  and  attractive  a  part  of  the  Pagan 

ceremonial.^     Besides  the  earliest  Agapse,  which  gave 

1  "  Quis  enim  ferat  Jovi  fulmina  vibranti  prseferri  Mygdonem ;  Junoni, 
Miuerv«,  Veneri,  Vestjeque  Sanaem,  et  cunctis  (pro  nefas)  Diis  imraortalibus 
archimartyrem  Nymphanionem,  inter  quos  Lucitas  hand  minore  cultu  sus- 
cipitur  atque  alii  interminato  numero;  Diisque  hominibiisque  odiosa  nomina." 
See  Augustin.,  Epist.  xvi.  p.  20. 

2  "  Cum  facta  pace,  turbae  Gentilium  in  Christianum  nomen  venire  cupien- 
tes,  hoc  impedirentur,  quod  dies  festos  cum  idolis  suis  solerent  in  abundan- 
tia  epularum  et  ebrietate  consumere,  nee  facile  ab  his  perniciosissimis  et  tam 
vetustissimis  voluptatibus  se  possent  abstinere,  visum  fuisse  majoribus  nos- 


328  FESTIVALS.  Book  IV. 

place  to  the  more  solemn  Eucharist,  there  were  other 
kinds  of  banquets,  at  marriages  and  funerals,  called 
likewise  Agapse  ;  ^  but  those  of  the  martyrs  were  the 
most  costly  and  magnificent.  The  former  were  of  a 
more  private  nature  ;  the  poor  were  entertained  at  the 
cost  of  the  married  couple  or  the  relatives  of  the  de- 
ceased. The  relationship  of  the  martyrs  extended  to 
the  whole  Christian  community,  and  united  all  in 
one  bond  of  piety.  They  belonged,  by  a  new  tie  of 
spiritual  kindred,  to  the  whole  Church. 

By  a  noble  metaphor,  the  day  of  the  martyrs'  death 
was  considered  that  of  their  birth  to  immortality  ;  and 
their  birthdays  became  the  most  sacred  and  popular 
festivals  of  the  Church.^  At  their  sepulchres,^  or 
more  frequently,  as  the  public  worship  became  more 
costly,  in  stately  clmrches  erected  either  over  their 
sepulchres,  or  in  some  more  convenient  situation,  but 
dedicated  to  their  honor,  these  holy  days  commenced 
with  the  most  impressive  religious  service.  Hymns 
were  sung  in  their  praise  (much  of  the  early  Christian 
poetry  was  composed  for  these  occasions)  ;  the  history 

tris,  ut  huic  infirmitatis  parti  interim  parceretur,  diesque  festos,  post  eos, 
quos  relinquebant,  alios  in  honorem  sanctorum  martyrum  vel  non  simili  sac- 
rilegio,  quamvis  simili  luxu  celebrarent."  — Augustin.,  Epist.  xxix.  p.  52. 

1  Gregory  Nazianzen  mentions  the  three  kinds :  — 

Ov6'  lepf/v  EKt  daira  yevedXtov,  Tje  -davovToc, 

H  Tiva  vviKpidirjv  cvv  TT?>,eovEa<7i  ■&£0}V.  —  Carm.  x. 

2  Teve6?ua,  natalitia.  This  custom  was  as  early  as  the  time  of  Polycarp. 
The  day  of  his  martyrdom  was  celebrated  by  the  Church  of  Antioch.  —  Euseb. 
lib.  iv.  15.  Compare  Suicer,  in  voce  yevEdTaov.  Tertullian  instances  the 
offerings  for  the  dead,  and  the  annual  celebration  of  the  birthdays  of  the 
martjTS  as  of  apostolic  tradition,  "Oblationes  pro  defunctis,  in  natalibus 
annua  die  facimus."  —  De  Coron.  Mil.  c  2.  Compare  Exhortat.  ad  Cast. 
c.  11.  In  the  treatise  De  Monogamia,  he  considers  it  among  the  sacred 
duties  of  a  faithful  widow,  "  offert  annuls  diebus  dormitionis  ejus." 

8  At  Antioch,  the  remains  of  St.  Juventinus  and  St.  Maximinus  were 
placed  in  a  sumptuous  tomb,  and  honored  with  an  annual  festival.  —  Theo- 
doret.  E.  H.  iii.  15 


CiiAP.  II.  FESTIVALS.  329 

of  their  lives  and  martyrdoms  Ayas  read  ^  (the  legends 
which  grew  up  into  so  fertile  a  subject  for  Christian 
mythic  fable)  ;  panegyrical  orations  were  delivered  by 
the  best  preachers.^  The  day  closed  with  an  open 
banquet,  in  which  all  the  worshippers  were  invited  to 
partake.  The  wealthy  Heathens  had  been  accustomed 
to  propitiate  the  Manes  of  their  departed  friends  by 
these  costly  festivals ;  the  banquet  was  almost  an 
integral  part  of  the  Heathen  religious  ceremony.  The 
custom  passed  into  the  Church ;  and,  with  the  Pagan 
feeling,  the  festival  assumed  a  Pagan  character  of 
gayety  and  joyous  excitement,  and  even  of  luxury.^ 
In  some  jDlaces,  the  confluence  of  worshippers  was  so 
great,  that,  as  in  the  earlier  and  indeed  the  more 
modern  religions  of  Asia,  the  neighborhood  of  the 
more  celebrated  churches  of  the  martyrs  became 
marts  for  commerce,  and  fairs  were  established  on 
those  holidays.* 

1  The  author  of  the  Acts  of  Ignatius  wrote  them,  in  part  that  the  day  of 
his  martyrdom  might  be  duly  honored.  —  Act.  Martyr.  Ign.  apud  Cotelerium, 
vol.  ii.  p.  161.     Compare  Acta  St.  Polycarpi. 

2  There  is  a  law  of  Theodosius  the  Great  against  selling  the  bodies  of 
martyrs.  —  Cod.  Theod.  ix.  17,  7. 

3  Lipsius  considered  these  Agapse  derived  from  the  Silicernium  of  the 
ancients.  —  Ad  Tac.  Ann.  vi.  5.  "  Quod  ilia  parentalia  superstitioni  Gen- 
tilium  essent  similia."  Such  is  the  observ^ation  of  Ambrose  apud  Augustiu. 
Conf.  vi.  2.  Boldetti,  a  good  Roman  Catholic  and  most  learned  antiquarian, 
observes  on  this  and  other  usages  adopted  ft'om  Paganism,  "  Fu  anche 
sentimento  de'  prelati  di  chiesa  di  condescendere  con  cio  alia  debolezza  de' 
convertiti  dal  Gentilesimo,  per  istaccarli  piii  soavemente  dell'  antichi  super- 
stizioni,  non  levando  loro  afFetto  ma  bensi  convertendo  in  buoni  i  loro  diver- 
timenti."  —  Osservazioni,  p.  46.  Compare  Marangoni's  work,  Dei  Cose 
Gentilesche. 

4  Already  had  the  Montanist  asceticism  of  Tertullian  taken  alarm  at  the 
abuse  of  the  earlier  festival,  which  had  likewise  degenerated  from  its  pious 
use,  and  with  his  accustomed  vehemence  denounced  the  abuse  of  the  Agapse 
among  the  Catholics.  "  Apud  te  Agape  in  sgeculis  fervet,  fides  in  culinis 
calet,  spes  in  ferculis  jacet.    Sed  major  his  est  Agape,  quia  per  banc  adoles- 


830  FESTIVALS.  Book  IV. 

As  the  evening  drew  in,  the  solemn  and  religious 
thoughts  gave  way  to  other  emotions  ;  the  wine  flowed 
freely,  and  the  healths  of  the  martyrs  were  pledged, 
not  unfrequently,  to  complete  inebriety.  All  the 
luxuries  of  the  Roman  banquet  were  imperceptibly  in- 
troduced. Dances  were  admitted,  pantomimic  specta- 
cles were  exhibited,^  the  festivals  were  prolonged  till 
late  in  the  evening,  or  to  midnight,  so  that  other 
criminal  irregularities  profaned,  if  not  the  sacred  edi- 
fice, its  immediate  neighborliood. 

The  bishops  had  for  some  time  sanctioned  these 
pious  hilarities  with  their  presence ;  they  had  freely 
partaken  of  the  banquets,  and  their  attendants  were 
accused  of  plundering  the  remains  of  the  feast,  which 
ought  to  have  been  preserved  for  the  use  of  the 
poor  .2 

But  the  scandals  wliich  inevitably  arose  out  of  these 
Paganized  solemnities  awoke  the  slumbering  vigilance 
of  the  more  serious  prelates.  The  meetings  were 
gradually  suppressed :   they  are  denounced,  with  the 

centes  tui  cum  sororibus  dormiunt,  appendices  scilicet  guise  lasciria  atque 
luxuria  est."  —  De  Jejun.  c.  xvii. 

There  are  many  paintings  in  the  catacombs  representing  Agapae.  Raoul 
Rochette,  Mdm.  des  Inscrip.  p.  141.  The  author  attributes  to  the  Agapa 
held  in  the  cemeteries,  many  of  the  cups,  glasses,  &c.  found  in  tlie  cata- 
combs. 

1  Bottiger,  in  his  prolusion  on  the  four  ages  of  the  drama  (Opera  Lat.  p. 
326),  supposed,  from  a  passage  of  St.  Augustine,  that  there  were  scenic  rep- 
resentations of  the  deaths  of  martyrs.  Miiller  justly  observes  that  the  pas- 
sage does  not  bear  out  this  inference ;  and  Augustine  would  scarcely  have 
used  such  expressions,  unless  of  dances  or  mimes  of  less  decent  kind. 
"  Sanctum  locum  invaserat  pestilentia  et  petulantia  saltationis ;  per  totam 
noctem  cantabantur  nefaria^  et  cantantibus  saltabatur."  — Augustin.  in  Natal. 
Cyprian,  p.  311. 

2  See  the  poem  of  Greg.  Naz.  de  Div.  Vit.  Gener.  Jerome  admits  the 
gross  evils  which  took  place  during  these  feasts,  but  ascribes  them  to  the  ir- 
regularities of  a  youthful  people,  which  ought  not  to  raise  a  prejudice  against 
the  religion,  or  even  against  the  usage.  The  bishops  were  sometimes  called 
vEKOOjSdpoi,  feasters  on  the  dead. 


Chap.  II.  FESTIVALS.  831 

strongest  condemnation  of  the  luxury  and  license  with 
which  they  were  celebrated  in  the  church  of  Antioch, 
by  Gregory  of  Nazianzum  ^  and  by  Chrysostom.  They 
were  authoritatively  condemned  by  a  canon  of  the 
Council  of  Laodicea.2  In  the  West,  they  were  gen- 
erally held  in  Rome,  and  in  other  Italian  cities,  to  a 
later  period.  The  authority  of  Ambrose  had  discoun- 
tenanced, if  not  entirely  abolished  them,  in  his  diocese 
of  Milan.^  They  prevailed  to  the  latest  time  in  the 
churches  of  Africa,  where  they  were  vigorously  assailed 
by  the  eloquence  of  Augustine.  The  Bishop  of  Hippo 
appeals  to  the  example  of  Italy  and  other  parts  of  the 
West,  in  which  they  had  never  prevailed,  and  in  which, 
wherever  they  had  been  known,  they  had  been  sup- 
pressed by  common  consent.  But  Africa  did  not 
surrender  them  without  a  struggle.  The  Manichean 
Faustus,  in  the  ascetic  spirit  of  his  sect,  taunts  the 
orthodox  with  their  idolatrous  festivals.  "  You  have 
but  substituted  your  Agapas  for  the  sacrifices  of  the 
Heathen ;  in  the  place  of  their  idols  you  have  set  up 
your  martyrs,  whom  you  worship  with  the  same  cere- 
monies as  the  Pagans  their  gods.  You  appease  the 
Manes  of  the  dead  with  wine  and  with  meat-offerings." 
The  answer  of  Augustine  indignantly  repels  the  charge 
of  idolatry,  and  takes  refuge  in  the  subtile  distinction 
in  the  nature  of  the  worship  offered  to  the  martyrs. 
"  The  reverence  paid  to  martyrs  is  the  same  with  that 
offered  to  holy  men  in  this  life,  only  offered  more 
freely,  because  they  have  finally  triumphed  in  their 
conflict.  We  adore  God  alone,  we  offer  sacrifice  to  no 
martyr,  or  to  the  soul  of  any  saint,  or  to  any  angel.  .  .  . 

1  Cann  ccxviii.,  ccxix.,  and  Oratio  vi.  Chrysostom,  Horn.  in.  S.  M.  Julian. 

2  Cone.  Harduin.  t.  i.  p.  786. 

8  Ambros.  de  Jejun.  c  xvii.  Augustin.  Confessiones,  vi.  2;  see  likewise 
Augustin.  Epist.  xxii.  p.  28 


332  FESTIVALS.  Book  IV. 

Those  who  intoxicate  themselves  by  the  sepulchres  of 
the  martyrs  are  condemned  by  sound  doctrine.  It  is 
a  different  thing  to  approve,  and  to  tolerate  till  we  can 
amend.  The  discipline  of  Christians  is  one  thing :  the 
sensuality  of  those  who  thus  indulge  in  drunkenness 
and  the  infirmity  of  the  weak  is  another."  ^ 

So  completely,  however,  had  they  grown  into  the 
habits  of  the  Christian  community,  that  in  many 
places  they  lingered  on  in  obstinate  resistance  to  the 
eloquence  of  the  great  teachers  of  Christianity.  Even 
the  councils  pronounced  with  hesitating  and  tardy 
severity  the  sentence  of  condemnation  against  these 
inveterate  usages,  to  which  the  people  adhered  with 
such  strons;  attachment.     That  of  Carthao^e 

A.D.  397.  ^  ^ 

prohibited  the  attendance  of  the  clergy,  and 
exhorted  them  to  persuade  the  people,  as  far  as  possi- 
ble, to  abstain  from  these  festivals  ;  that  of 

A.D.  533.  '  ' 

Orleans  condemns  the  singing,  dancing,  or 

dissolute  behavior,  in  churches ;  that  of  Agde  (Sens) 

condemns    secular    music,    the    sinoiu"-    of 

A.D.  578.  '  ^      ^ 

women,  and  banquets,  in  that  place  of  which 
"  it  is  written  that  it  is  a  house  of  prayer ; "  finally, 
that  in  Trullo,  held  at  Constantinople,  as  late  as  the 
beginning  of  the  eighth  century,  prohibits  the  decking 
of  tables  in  churches  (the  prohibition  indicates  the 

1  Cont.  Faust,  lib.  xx.  c.  xxi.     One  of  the  poems  of  St.  Paulinus  of  Nola 
describes  the  general  concourse  to  these  festivals,  and  the  riots  which  arose 

out  of  them. 

Et  nunc  ecce  frequentes 
Per  totam  et  vigiles  exteudunt  gaudia  noctem, 
LaetiticL  sonmos,  teuebras  funalibus  arcent. 
Verum  utiuam  sanis  agerent  hcec  g-audia  votis, 
Nee  sua  liininibus  miscerent  gaudia  Sanctis. 
.  .  .  ignoscenda  tamen  puto  talia  parcis 
Gaudia  quae  ducant  epulis,  quia  mentibus  error 
Trrepit  rudibus,  nee  tantse  conscia  culpae 
Simplicitas  pietate  cadit,  male  credula  Sanctos 
Perfusis  halante  mere  gaudere  sepulcris. 

Carmen  ix.  in  St.  Felicem  Martyrem. 


CHiLP.II.  FESTIVALS.  333 

practice)  :  and  at  lengtli  it  provoked  a  formal  sentence 
of  excommunication.^ 

1  It  is  high  time  that  the  catacombs  should  be  withdrawn  from  the  do- 
main of  Polemics,  and,  if  not  of  Poetry,  of  Romance,  to  that  of  sober  His- 
tory. According  to  the  language  of  many  modern  writers,  it  would  be 
supposed  that  for  the  first  three  centuries  the  catacombs  were  the  ordinary 
dwellings^  the  only  places  of  divine  worship,  for  the  Christians  of  Rome.  A 
noble  author,  never  to  be  mentioned  without  respect,  writes  about  a  whole 
population  living  in  these  dens  and  caves  of  the  earth  (Lord  Lindsay, 
"Christian  Art,"  i.  pp.  4,  5).  Even  M.  de  Presseuse  ^vrites  of  the  Church 
of  the  Catacombs  (i.  367).  Cardinal  Wiseman,  though  he  has  prudently  laid 
the  scene  of  his  romance  in  the  time  of  Diocletian,  leads  to  the  inference  that 
those  days  represent  the  ordinary  hfe  of  the  Roman  Christians  of  the  first 
three  centuries.  It  is  assumed  or  insinuated  that  the  whole  period  was  a  con- 
tinuous persecution;  that  the  Christians  were  {laclfugcB)  obliged  to  shroud 
themselves  from  the  eye  of  day ;  to  conceal  their  ordinary  worship  and  their 
mysteries  alike  under  the  earth.  It  might  be  supposed  that  Dodwell's  unan- 
swered and  unanswerable  Treatise  de  I'aucitate  Martyrum  had  never  been 
written.  In  truth,  there  Avas  no  general  persecution  of  the  Christians  in 
Rome,  from  the  reign  of  Nero,  A.C.  65,  to  that  of  Decius,  249-251.  During 
that  period,  the  Christians  were  in  general  as  free  and  secure  as  other  inhabi- 
tants of  Rome.  Their  assemblies  were  no  more  disturbed  than  the  synagogues 
of  the  Jews,  or  the  rites  of  other  foreign  religions.  How  much  earlier,  we 
know  not,  but  we  know  that  they  had  churches  in  the  reign  of  Alexander 
Severus.  The  first  martyr-pope,  after  apostolic  times,  was  Fabianus,  in  the 
reign  of  Decius.  From  this  first  terrible  but  brief  onslaught  mider  Decius, 
in  which  Cornelius,  the  successor  of  Fabianus,  also  perished,  to  the  general 
and  more  merciless  persecution  under  Diocletian  and  Galerius  (A.C.  303), 
there  were  periods  of  local  and  very  barbarous  trial  in  many  parts  of  the 
empire;  the  Roman  Christians  may  not  have  escaped  in  the  times  of  Claudius 
and  Aurelian :  but  of  any  Roman  persecution  there  is  no  trustworthy  record ; 
nor  of  any  martyr-pope.  Though  it  may  have  been  occasionally  interrupted, 
the  public  worship  of  Christ  disdained  concealment,  lurked  not  in  secret 
places,  but  confronted  authority,  and  asserted  its  privilege  of  Roman  citizen- 
ship. 

No  doubt  from  the  profound  reverence  for  the  dead  (deepened  by  the  be- 
lief in  perhaps  the  speedy  resurrection  of  the  body),  there  were,  in  all  the 
catacombs,  what  we  may  call  mortuary  chapels  (one  has  been  found  in  one 
of  the  Jewish  catacombs),  in  which  some  funeral  ceremony  was  performed; 
and  to  which  the  bereaved  Christian  would  resort  to  mourn  over  the  remains 
of  the  parent,  the  wife  or  husband,  or  the  child,  prematurely  laid  to  rest. 
Sorrow  woidd  find  its  consolation  in  prayer.  Natural  grief;  the  quiet  assur- 
ance of  the  peace  in  which  the  departed  slept ;  the  hope,  the  confidence,  in 
their  immortality,  —  all  which  the  submissive,  or  rather  rejoicing  faith  ex- 
presses so  simply  and  so  beautifully  in  all  the  earlier  epitaphs,  —  would  lead 
to  the  more  devout  worship  of  God  in  these  holy  places.    Nor  would  that  be 


334  PROFANE  SPECTACLES.         Book  IV. 

But  notwithstanding  all  its  efforts  to  divert  and  })re- 
Profme  occiipj  tlic  mind  by  these  graver  or  at  least 
spectacles,  ppjniarily  religious  spectacles,  the  passion  for 
theatrical  amusements  was  too  strong  to  be  repressed 
by  Christianity.  It  succeeded  in  some  humane  im- 
provements, but,  in  some  parts,  it  was  obliged  to  yield 
to  the  ungovernable  torrent.  The  populace  of  an 
empire  threatened  on  all  sides  by  dangerous  enemies, 
oppressed  by  a  remorseless  tyranny,  notwithstanding 
the  remonstrances  of  a  new  and  dominant  religion, 
imperiously  demanded,  and  recklessly  enjoyed,  their 
accustomed  diversions.^  In  some  places,  that  which 
had  been  a  delight  became  a  madness ;  and  it  was  a 
Christian  city  which  first  broke  out  in  sedition  and 
insurrection,  whose  streets  ran  with  blood,  from  the 
rivalry  of  two  factions  in  the  circus.  The  Heathen 
world  was  degenerate  even  in  its  diversions.  It  was 
not  the  nobler  drama  of  Greece,  or  even  that  of 
Rome ;  neither  the  stately  tragedy,  nor  even  the  fine 
comedy  of  manners,  for  which  the  mass  of  the  people 

the  natural  and  spontaneous  offering  of  private  sorrow  alone.  The  sepul- 
chres of  distinguished  Christians  —  distinguished  for  Christian  virtues  of  holi- 
ness and  charity  —  would  assemble  the  sad,  but  at  the  same  time  triumphant, 
Christians  to  celebrate  the  departure  of  such  men  from  the  sinful  world, — 
their  departure  to  their  Redeemer,  Christ.  Out  of  this  reverent  soitow  would 
grow,  in  times  like  the  Decian  persecution,  over  the  graves  of  martyred  bish- 
ops, like  Fabianus  and  Cornelius,  or  in  the  more  terrible  persecution  under 
Diocletian,  that  which  in  later  times  became  the  worship  of  the  martyrs 
themselves.  By  the  time  of  Jerome,  this  worship  had  become  more  common. 
To  visit  the  tombs  of  the  martyrs  became  a  kind  of  pilgrimage.  It  is  but  in 
the  course  of  things  that  martyr-worship  multiplied  the  martyrs ;  till,  after 
centuries,  the  whole  line  of  popes  which  are  now  deduced  from  St.  Peter, 
become,  according  to  some  not  ver}'  scrupulous  or  authentic  lists,  excepting 
one  unfortunate  Greek,  honored  by  this  holy  title. 

1  In  the  fifth  century,  Treves,  four  times  desolated  by  the  barbarians,  no 
sooner  recovered  its  freedom,  than  it  petitioned  for  the  games  of  the  circus. 
"  Ubique  facies  captse  urbis,  ubique  terror  captivitatis,  ubique  imago  mortis, 
jacent  reUquiae  infelicissimse  plebis  super  tumulos  mortuorum  suorum,  et  tu 
circenses  rogas."    Compare  the  whole  passage,  Salvian,  De  Gub.  Dei,  vi. 


Chap.  II.  HEATHEN  CALENDAE.  335 

endured  the  stern  remonstrances  of  the  Christian 
orator ;  but  spectacles  of  far  less  intellectual  preten- 
sions, and  far  more  likely  to  be  injurious  to  Christian 
morals.  The  higher  drama,  indeed,  was  not,  as  I  shall 
show  hereafter,  entirely  obsolete,  but  comparatively 
rare  and  unattractive. 

The  Heathen  calendar  still  regulated  the  amuse- 
ments of  the  people.^  Nearly  one  hundred  jj^^^hen 
days  in  the  year  were  set  apart  as  festivals ;  calendar 
the  commencement  of  every  month  was  dedicated 
to  the  public  diversions.  Besides  these,  there  were 
extraordinary  days  of  rejoicing,  a  victory,  the  birthday 
of  the  reigning  emperor,  or  the  dedication  of  his  statue 
by  the  prefect  or  the  provincials  of  any  city  or  district. 
On  the  accession  of  a  new  emperor,  processions  always 
took  place,  which  ended  in  the  exhibition  of  games.^ 
The  dedication  of  statues  to  the  emperors  by  different 
cities,  great  victories,  and  other  important  events,  were 
always  celebrated  with  games.  The  Christians  ob- 
tained a  law  from  Theodosius,  that  games  should  be 

1  The  ordinary  calendar  of  holidays,  on  which  the  courts  of  law  did  not 
sit,  at  the  close  of  the  fourth  century,  is  given  by  Godefroy  (note  on  the  Cod. 
Theodos.  lib.  ii.,  viii.  11). 

Ferise  aestivae  (harvest) ttttt 

Feriae  autumnales  (vintage) xxx 

Kalendae  Januarii iii 

Natalitia  urbis  Romse i 

urbis  Constantin i 

Paschae xv 

Dies  Solis,3  circiter xli 

Natalitia  Imperatorum iv 

cxxv 

Christmas-day,  Epiphany,  and  Pentecost  were  not  as  yet  general  holidays. 

2  The  Constantinian  Calendar  (Gr«vii  Thesaur.  viii.)  reckons  ninetj'-six 
days  for  the  games,  of  which  but  few  were  peculiar  to  Rome.  —  Miiller,  ii. 
p.  49. 

8  The  other  Sundays  were  comprised  in  the  summer,  autumnal,  and  Easter  holi- 
days 


38G  TIIE  THEORETICA.  Book  IV. 

prohibited  on  the  Lord's  day.  The  African  bishops, 
in  the  fifth  Council  of  Carthage,  petitioned  that  this 
prohibition  might  be  extended  to  all  Christian  holidays. 
They  urged  that  many  members  of  the  corporate 
bodies  were  obliged  officially  to  attend  on  these  occa- 
sions, and  prevented  from  fulfilling  their  religious 
duties.  The  law  of  Theodosius  the  elder  had  inhibited 
the  celebration  of  games  on  Sundays :  ^  one  of  the 
younger  Theodosius  added,  at  Christmas,  the  Epi- 
phany, Easter,  and  Pentecost,  and  directed  that  on 
those  days  the  theatres  should  be  closed,  not  only  to 
the  Christians,  but  to  the  impious  Jews  and  supersti- 
tious Pagans.^  But,  notwithstanding  this  law,  which 
must  have  been  imperfectly  carried  into  execution,  the 
indignant  preachers  still  denounce  the  rivalry  of 
the  games,  which  withdrew  so  many  of  their  audience.^ 
The  Theo-  '^^^^  Thcorctica,  or  fund  for  the  expenses  of 
retica.  pubUc  shows  aud  amusements,  which  existed 
not  only  in  the  two  capitals,  but  in  all  the  larger  cities 
of  the  empire,  was  first  confiscated  to  the  imperial  treas- 
ury by  Justinian.  Up  to  that  time,  the  imperial  policy 
had  sanctioned  and  enforced  this  expenditure ;  and  it 
is  remarkable,  that  this  charge,  which  had  been  so 
long  voluntarily  borne  by  the  ambition  or  the  vanity 
of  the  higher  orders,  was  first  imposed  as  a  direct  tax 
on  individuals  by  a  Christian  emperor.  By  a  law  of 
Constantino,  the  senate  of  Rome  and  of  Constantinople 
were  empowered  to  designate  any  person  of  a  certain 
rank  and  fortune  for  the  costly  function  of  exhibiting 
games  in  these  two  great  cities.*    These  were  in  addi- 

1  Cod.  Theod.  xv.  v.  2. 

2  Cod.  Theod.  xv.  t.  5, 1.  5,  A.D.  425.    Miiller,  p.  50. 

8  See,  for  the  earlier  period,  Apostolic  Constit.  ii.  60,  61,  62;  Theophyl. 
ad  Autolyc.  iii.  p.  396 ;  for  the  later,  Chrysostom,  paene  passim,  Horn,  contra 
Ant. ;  Horn,  in  princip.    Act  i.  58 ;  Horn,  in  Johann. 

4  Zosim.  lib.  ii.  c.  38. 


Chap.il  the  theoretica.  337 

tion  to  the  spectacles  exhibited  by  the  consuls.  In 
the  other  cities,  decemvirs  were  nominated  to  this 
office.^  The  only  exemptions  were  nonage,  military 
or  civil  service,  or  a  special  indulgence  from  the  em- 
peror. Men  fled  from  their  native  cities  to  escape 
this  onerous  distinction.  But  if  the  charge  was  thrown 
on  the  treasury,  the  treasury  could  recover  from  the 
prgetor  or  decemvir,  besides  assessing  heavy  fines  for 
the  neglect  of  the  duty ;  and  they  were  liable  to  be 
condemned  to  serve  two  years  instead  of  one.  In  the 
Eastern  provinces,  this  office  had  been  joined  with  a 
kind  of  high-priesthood :  such  were  the  Asiarchs,  the 
Syriarchs,^  the  Bithyniarchs.  The  most  distinguished 
men  of  the  province  had  been  proud  of  accepting  the 
station  of  chief  minister  of  the  gods,  at  the  expense 
of  these  sumptuous  festivities.  The  office  remained 
under  the  Christian  emperors,^  but  had  degenerated 
into  a  kind  of  purveyorship  for  the  public  pleasures. 
A  law  of  Theodosius  enacted  that  this  office  should 
not  be  imposed  on  any  one  who  refused  to  undertake 
it.*     Another  law,  from  which,  however,  the  Asiarchs 

1  See  various  laws  of  Constantius,  regulating  the  office,  the  expenses,  the 
fines  imposed  on  the  prtetors;  Cod.  Theodos.  vi.  3;  Laws  i.  1-33.  This 
shows  the  importance  attached  to  the  office.  These  munerarii,  as  well  as 
the  actors,  were  to  do  penance  all  their  lives.  —  Act.  Cone.  Illeb.  can.  3. 
Compare  Bingham,  xvi.  4,  8.  This  same  council  condemned  all  who  took 
the  office  of  decemvir  to  a  year's  exclusion  from  the  communion.  —  Bingham, 
vhi  $upra. 

2  Malala,  Chronograph,  hb.  xii.  in  art.  Codex  Theodos.  vi.  3,  1. 

3  The  "tribunus  voluptatum"  appears  as  a  title  on  a  Christian  tomb. 
—  Bosio,  Roma  Sotteranea,  p.  106.     Compare  the  observations  of  Bosio. 

4  Cod.  Theodos.  xii.  1.  103.  Compare  the  quotations  from  Libanius,  m 
Godefroy's  Commentary.  There  is  a  sumptuary  law  of  Theodosius  II. 
limiting  the  expenses :  "Nee  inconsulta  plausorum  insania  curialium  vires, 
fortunas  civium,  principalium  domus,  possessorum  opes,  reipublicjB  robur 
evellant."  The  Alytarchs,  Syriarchs,  Asiarchs,  and  some  others,  are  ex- 
empted from  this  laAV.  —  C.  T.  xv.  9,  2.  In  Italy,  at  a  later  period,  the 
reign  of  Theodoric,  the  public  games  were  provided  by  the  liberality  of  the 
Gothic  sovereign,  "Beatitudo  sit  temporum  laetitia  populorum." — Cassio- 

VOL.  III.  22 


338  ADMISSION    OF   WOMEN  Book  IV- 

were  excluded,  attempted  to  regulate  the  expenditure 
between  the  mean  parsimony  of  some  and  the  prodi- 
gality of  others.^  Those  who  voluntarily  undertook 
the  office  of  exhibiting  games  were  likewise  exempted 
from  this  sumptuary  law;  for  there  were  still  some 
ambitious  of  this  kind  of  popularity.  They  were 
proud  of  purchasing  at  this  enormous  price  the  honor 
of  seeing  their  names  displayed  on  tablets  to  the  won- 
dering multitude,^  and  of  behig  drawn  in  their  chariots 
through  the  applauding  city  on  the  morning  of  the 
festival. 

Throughout  the  empire,  this  passion  prevailed  in 
every  city,^  and  in  all  classes.  From  early  morning 
to  late  in  the  evening,  the  theatres  were  crowded  in 
every  part.^  The  artisan  deserted  his  work,  the  mer- 
chant his  shop,  the  slaves  followed  their  masters,  and 
were  admitted  into  the  vast  circuit.  Sometimes,  wlien 
the  precincts  of  the  circus  or  amphitheatre  were  insuf- 
ficient to  contain  the  thronging  multitudes,  tlie  adja- 
cent hills  were  crowded  with  spectators,  anxious  to 
obtain   a   glimpse   of  the   distant   combatants,  or   to 

dorus,  Epist.  i.  20.  The  Epistles  of  Theocloric's  minister  are  full  of  prori- 
sions  and  regulations  for  the  celebration  of  the  various  kinds  of  games.  — 
lib.  i.  epist.  20,  27,  30,  31,  32,  33;  iii.  51;  iv.  37.  Theodoric  espoused  the 
green  faction ;  he  supported  the  pantomime.  There  were  still  tiHbuni  volup- 
tatum  at  Rome,  vi.  6.     Stipends  were  allowed  to  scenici,  ix.  21. 

1  Symmachus,  lib.  x.  epist.  28,  42.  Compare  Heyne,  Opuscula,  vi. 
p.  14. 

2  Basil,  in  Psal.  61.    Prudent.  Hamartigenia. 

3  Miiller  names  the  following  cities,  besides  the  four  great  capitals,  Rome, 
Constantinople,  Antioch,  and  Alexandria,  in  which  the  games  are  alluded  to 
by  ancient  authors,  —  GortjTia,  Nicomedia,  Laodicea,  Tyre,  Berj'tus,  Ciesarea, 
Heliopolis,  Gaza,  Ascalon,  Jerusalem,  Berea,  Corinth,  Cirta,  Carthage,  Syra- 
cuse, Catania,  Milan,  Aquileia,  Ravenna,  Mentz,  Cologne,  Treves,  Aries, 
—  p.  53. 

■*  Augustine,  indeed,  asserts,  "per  omnes  ferfe  civitates  cadunt  theatra 
eaveae  turpitudinum,  et  publicae  professiones  flagitiorum."  —  De  Cons.  Evan- 
gelist, c  61. 


chap.il  to  the  spectacles.  339 

ascertain  the  color  of  the  victorious  charioteer.  The 
usages  of  the  East  and  of  the  West  differed  as  to 
the  admission  of  women  to  these  spectacles.  In  the 
East,  they  were  excluded  hy  the  general  sentiment 
from  the  theatre.^  Nature  itself,  observes  St.  Chry- 
sostom,  enforces  this  prohibition.^  It  arose,  not  out 
of  Christianity,  but  out  of  the  manners  of  the  East ; 
it  is  alluded  to  not  as  a  distinction,  but  as.  a  general 
usage.^  Chrysostom  laments  that  women,  though 
they  did  not  attend  the  games,  were  agitated  by  the 
factions  of  the  circus.*  In  the  West,  the  greater 
freedom  of  the  Roman  women  had  long  asserted  and 
still  maintained  this  privilege.^  It  is  well  known,  that 
the  Yestal  virgins  had  their  seats  of  honor  in  the 
Eoman  spectacles,  even  those  which  might  have  been 
supposed  most  repulsive  to  feminine  gentleness  and 
delicacy ;  and  the  Christian  preachers  of  the  West  re- 
monstrate as  strongly  against  the  females  as  against 
the  men,  on  account  of  their  inextinguishable  attach- 
ment to  the  public  spectacles. 

The  more  austere  and  ascetic  Christian  teachers 
condemned  alike  all  these  popular  spectacles.  From 
the  avowed  connection  with  Paganism,  as  to  the  time 

1  There  are  one  or  two  passages  of  the  Fathers  opposed  to  this  opinion. 
Tatian  says,  roiig  OKtog  del  fj,otX£V£tv  km  rr/g  onTjvyjg  ao(pLaTevovTag  aZ  ■&vyd- 
repeg  vfiuv  koc  ol  Traldeg  ■deupovac.  —  c  22.     Clemens  Alex.  Strom,  lib.  ili. 

2  Chrys.  Horn.  12  in  Coloss.  vol.  ii.  p.  417. 

3  Procop.  de  Bell.  Pers.  1.  c.  42. 

*  It  was  remarked  as  an  extraordinary  occurrence,  that,  on  the  intelligence 
of  the  martyrdom  of  Gordius,  matrons  and  virgins,  forgetting  their  bashful- 
ness,  rushed  to  the  theatre.  —  Basil,  vol.  ii.  p.  144,  147. 

5  "  Qufe  pudica  forsitan  ad  spectaculum  matrona  processerat,  de  spectaculo 
revertitur  impudica."  —  Ad  Donat.  Compare  Augustine,  de  Civ.  Dei,  ii.  4. 
"Quid  juvenes  aut  virgines  faciant,  cum  hgec  et  fieri  sine  pudore,  et  spectari 
libenter  ab  omnibus  cernunt,  admonentur,  quid  facere  possent,  inflammantur 
libidines,  ac  se  qmsque  pro  sexu  in  illis  imaginibus  prsefigurat,  corruptiores 
ad  cubicula  revertuntur."  —  Lact.  Div.  Instit.  xv.  6,  31. 


340  GYMNASTIC  GAMES.  Book  IV. 

of  their  celebration,^  their  connection  with  the  wor- 
ship of  Pagan  deities,  according  to  the  accredited 
notion  that  all  these  deities  were  demons  permitted 
to  delude  mankind,  the  theatre  was  considered  a  kind 
of  temple  of  the  Evil  Spirit.^  There  were  some,  how- 
ever, who  openly  vindicated  these  public  exhibitions, 
and  alleged  the  chariot  of  Elijah,  the  dancing  of  David, 
and  the  quotations  of  St.  Paul  from  dramatic  writers, 
as  cases  in  point. 

These  public  spectacles  were  of  four  kinds,  independ- 
Four  kinds  ©ut  of  the  commou  and  more  vulgar  exhibi- 
of  spectacles,  j-j^j-^g^  juggling,  ropc-daucing,  and  tumbling.^ 

I.  The  old  gymnastic  games.  The  Olympic  games 
Gymnastic  survivcd  iu  Grccce  till  the  invasion  of  Alaric* 
games.  Autioch  likcwisc  celebrated  this  quinquennial 

festivity ;  youths  of  station  and  rank  exhibited  them- 
selves as  boxers  and  wrestlers.  These  games  were 
also  retained  at  Rome  and  in  parts  of  Africa ;  ^  it  is 

1  "  Dubium  enim  non  est,  quod  lEedunt  Deum,  utpote  idolis  consecratae. 
Colitur  namque  et  honoratur  Miuen^a  in  gyranasiis,  Venus  in  theatris,  Nep- 
tunus  in  circis,  Mars  in  arenis,  Mercurius  in  palaestris."  —  Salvian,  lib.  vi. 

A  fair  collection  of  the  denunciations  of  the  Fathers  against  theatrical 
amusements  may  be  found  in  Mamachi,  de'  Costumi  de'  Primitivi  Cristiaui, 
ii.  p.  150,  et  seqq. 

2  See  the  book  De  Spect.,  attributed  to  St.  Cyprian.  The  author  calls 
Idolatry,  "Ludorum  omnium  mater."  "  Quod  enim  spectaculum  sine  idolo, 
quis  Indus  sine  sacrificio  (De  spectacuUs).  Ludorum  celebrationes  deorum 
festa  sunt."  —  Lactant.  Inst.  Div.  vi.  20. 

3  Compare  the  references  to  Chrj'sostom's  works  on  the  rope-dancers,  jug- 
glers, &c.  in  RIontfaucon,  Diatribe,  p.  194. 

4  Liban.  de  Vocat.  ad  Festa  Olympise. 

Cuncta  Palaemoniis  manus  explorata  coronis 
Adsit,  et  Eleo  pubes  laudata  Tonanti. 

Claudian,  de  Fl.  Mai.  Cons.  288. 

This,  however,  may  be  poetic  reminiscence.  These  exhibitions  are  described 
as  conducted  with  greater  decency  and  order  (probably  because  they  awoke 
less  passionate  interest)  than  those  of  the  circus  or  theatre. 

6  They  were  restored  in  Africa,  by  a  law  of  Gratian,  A.D.  376.  —  Cod. 
Theod.  XV.  7,  3. 


Chap.  n.  TRAGEDY  AND  COIHEDY.  341 

uncertain  whether  they  were  introduced  into  Constan- 
tinople. The  various  passages  of  Chrysostom  which 
aUude  to  them  probably  were  delivered  in  Antioch. 
Something  of  the  old  honor  adhered  to  the  wrestlers 
and  performers  in  these  games :  they  either  were,  or 
were  supposed  to  be,  of  respectable  station  and  un- 
blemished character.  The  herald  advanced  into  the 
midst  of  the  arena,  and  made  his  proclamation,  "  that 
any  man  should  come  forward  who  had  any  charge 
against  any  one  of  the  men  about  to  appear  before 
them,  as  a  thief,  a  slave,  or  of  bad  reputation."^ 

II.  Theatrical  exhibitions,  properly  so  called.  The 
higher  tragedy  and  comedy  were  still  repre-  ^^.^  ^^  ^^^ 
sented  on  the  inauguration  of  the  consuls  at  ^^'^^^y- 
Rome.  Claudian  names  actors  of  the  sock  and  buskin, 
the  performers  of  genuine  comedy  and  tragedy,  as 
exhibiting  on  the  occasion  of  the  consulship  of  Mallius.^ 
During  the  triumph  of  the  Christian  emperors  Theodo- 
sius  and  Arcadius,  the  theatre  of  Pompey  was  filled  by 
chosen  actors  from  all  parts  of  the  world.  Two  actors 
in  tragedy  and  comedy  ^  are  named  as  standing  in  the 
same  relation  to  each  other  as  the  famous  ^sopus 
and  the  comic  Roscius.  Prudentius  speaks  of  the 
tragic  mask  as  still  in  use ;  and  it  appears  that 
females  acted  those  parts  in  Terence  which  were 
formerly  represented  by  men.^  The  youthful  mind  of 
Augustine  took  delight  in  being  agitated  by  the 
fictitious  sorrows  of  the  stage. ^     Nor  was  this  higher 

1  Compare  Montfaucon's  Diatribe,  p.  194. 
2  Qui  pulpita  socco 

Personat,  aut  alte  graditur  majore  cothurno. 

In  Cons.  MaU.  313. 
Pompeiana  proscenia  delectis  actoribus  personarent. 

Symmach.  lib.  x.  ep.  29. 
8  Publius  Pollio  and  Ambivius.  —  Symmach.  Epist.  x.  2. 
*  Donatus  in  Andriam,  act.  iv.  so.  3.  5  Confess,  iii.  2. 


342  TRAGEDY  AND  COMEDY.        Book  IV. 

branch  of  the  art  extinct  in  the  East :  tragic  and  comic 
actors  are  named,  with  other  histrionic  performers,  in 
the  orations  of  Chrysostom,i  and  there  are  allusions 
in  Libanius  to  mythological  tragic  fables  and  to  the 
comedies  of  Menander.^  But  as  these  representations, 
after  they  had  ceased  to  be  integral  parts  of  the  Pagan 
worship,  were  less  eagerly  denounced  by  the  Christian 
teachers,^  the  comparatively  slight  and  scanty  notices 
in  their  writings,  almost  our  only  records  of  the 
manners  of  the  time,  by  no  means  prove  the  infre- 
quency  of  these  representations  ;  though  it  is  probable, 
for  other  reasons,  that  the  barbarous  and  degraded 
taste  was  more  gratified  by  the  mimes  and  pantomimes, 
the  chariot  races  of  the  circus,  and  the  wild  beasts  in 
the  amphitheatre.^  But  tragedy  and  comedy,  at  this 
period,  were  probably  maintained  rather  to  display 
the  magnificence  of  the  consul  or  prsetor,  who  prided 
himself  on  the  variety  of  his  entertainments,  and  were 
applauded,  perhaps,^  by  professors  of  rhetoric  and 
a  few  faithful  admirers  of  antiquity,  rather  than  by 
the  people  at  large.  Some  have  supposed  that  the 
tragedies  written  on  religious  subjects  in  the  time  of 
Julian  were  represented  on  the  stage ;    but  there  is 

1  Chrysostom,  Horn.  10  in  Coloss.  v.  ii.  p.  403 ;  Horn.  6  in  Terrse  mot.  i.  780 ; 
i.  p.  38;  i.  731. 

2  Liban.  vol.  ii.  p.  375. 

3  Lactantius  inveighs  with  all  the  energy  of  the  first  ages  against  ta-agedy 
and  comedy:  ''  Tragicse  historise  subjiciunt  oculis  patricidia  et  incesta  regum 
maloruin,  et  cothurnata  scelera  demonstrant.  Comic*  de  stupris  virginum 
et  amicitiis  meretricum,  et  quo  magis  sunt  eloquentes,  eo  magis  persuadent, 
facilius  inhaerent  memorias  versus  numerosi  et  ornati."  —  Instit.  vi.  20. 

4  Augustine,  however,  draws  a  distinction  between  these  two  classes  of 
theatric  representations  and  the  lower  kind :  "  Scenicorum  tolerabiliora 
ludorum,  comoediae  scilicet  et  tragoedias,  hoc  est  fabulte  poetarum,  agendas  in 
spectaculo  multa  rerum  turpitudine,  sed  nulla  saltern,  sicut  aliae  multje,  ver- 
borum  obscenitate  compositae,  quas  etiam  inter  studia,  quae  liberalia  vocantiir 
pueri  legere  et  discere  coguntur  a  senibus."  — De  Civ.  Dei,  lib.  ii.  c.  8. 

5  Miiller,  p.  139. 


Chap.  II.  MIMES.  343 

no  ground  for  this  notion:  these  were  intended  as 
school-books,  to  supply  the  place  of  Sophocles  and 
Menander. 

In  its  degeneracy,  the  higher  Drama  had  long  been 
supplanted  by,  —  1st,  the  Mimes.  Even  this 
kind  of  drama,  perhaps  of  Roman  or  even  of 
earlier  Italian  origin,  had  degenerated  into  the  coarsest 
scurrility,  and,  it  should  seem,  the  most  repulsive  inde- 
cency. Formerly  it  had  been  the  representation  of 
some  incident  in  common  life,  extemporaneously  dram- 
atized by  the  mime,  ludicrous  in  its  general  chari^v'^.ter, 
mingled  at  times  with  sharp  or  even  grave  and  sen- 
tentious satire.  Such  were  the  mimes  of  Laberius,  to 
which  republican  Rome  had  listened  with  delight.  It 
was  now  the  lowest  kind  of  buifoonery.  The  mime, 
or  several  mimes,  both  male  and  female,  appeared  in 
ridiculous  dresses,  with  shaven  crowns,  and,  pretending 
still  to  represent  some  kind  of  story,  poured  forth  tiieir 
witless  obscenity,  and  indulged  in  all  kinds  of  practical 
jokes  and  manual  wit,  blows  on  the  face,  and  broken 
heads.  The  music  was  probably  the  great  charm ;  but 
that  had  become  soft,  effeminate,  and  lascivious.  The 
female  performers  were  of  the  most  abandoned  char- 
acter ;  ^  and  scenes  were  sometimes  exhibited  of  the 
most  abominable  indecency,  even  if  we  do  not  give 
implicit  credit  to  the  malignant  tales  of  Procopius  con- 
cerning the  exhibitions  of  the  empress  Theodora,  when 

1  Many  passages  of  Chiysostom  might  be  quoted,  in  which  he  speaks  of 
the  naked  courtesans,  meaning  probably  with  the  most  transparent  clothing 
(though  women  were  exhibited  at  Antioch  swimming  in  an  actual  state  of 
nudity),  who  performed  in  these  mimes.  The  more  severe  Christian  preacher 
is  confirmed  by  the  language  of  the  Heathen  Zosimus,  whose  bitter  hatred  to 
Christianit}'  induces  him  to  attribute  their  most  monstrous  excesses  to  the 
reign  of  the  Christian  emperor.  Mlfiot  re  yap  ytkoiuv,  koX  oi  KOKug  otto- 
TjovixevoL  opxrjGTal,  koI  irdv  b'  ri  irpbg  aioxpoTriTa  kol  tt/v  utottov  TavTijv 
KOI  eKfieAf/  cvvT£7\£l  fiovGLKTjv,  TjGiirjdr]  re  km  tovtov.  —  Lib.  iv.  c  33. 


344  PANTOMIMES.  Book  IV. 

she  performed  as  a  dancing  girl  in  these  disgusting 
mimes. ^ 

2d,  The  Pantomime  was  a  kind  of  ballet  in  action.^ 
Pantomimes  ^^  ^^^  *^^®  mimic  representation  of  all  the 
old  tragic  and  mythological  fables,  without 
words,^  or  intermingled  with  chants  or  songs.*  These 
exhibitions  were  got  up  at  times  with  great  splendor 
of  scenery,  which  was  usually  painted  on  hanging 
curtains,  and  with  musical  accompaniments  of  the 
greatest  variety.  The  whole  cycle  of  mythology,^ 
both  of  the  gods  and  heroes,  was  represented  by  the 
dress  and  mimic  gestures  of  the  performer.  The 
deities,  both  male  and  female,  —  Jupiter,  Pluto,  and 
Mars ;  Juno,  Proserpine,  Venus ;  Theseus  and  Her- 
cules ;  Achilles,  with  all  the  heroes  of  the  Trojan 
war  ;  Ph^dra,  Briseis,  Atalanta  ;  the  race  of  (Edipus,  — 
these  are  but  a  few  of  the  dramatic  personages  which, 
on  the  authority  of  Libanius,^  were  personated  by  the 
pantomimes  of  the  East.  Sidonius  Apollinaris '^  fills 
twenty-five  lines  with  those  represented  in  the  West 

1  Miiller,  92,  103. 

2  Libanius  is  indignant  that  men  should  attempt  to  confound  the  orchestae, 
or  pantomimes,  with  these  degraded  and  infamous  mimes.  —  Vol.  iii.  p.  350. 
The  pantomimes  wore  masks:  the  mimes  had  their  faces  uncovered,  and 
usually  had  shaven  crowns. 

3  The  pantomimi,  or  dancers,  represented  their  parts :  — 

Clausis  faucibus  et  loquente  gestu 
Nutu,  crure,  genu,  manu,  rotatu. 

Sid.  Apoll. 

■*  There  was  sometimes  a  regular  chorus,  with  instrumental  music  (Sid. 
Apoll.  xxiii.  268),  and  probably  poetry  composed  for  the  occasion.  —  Miiller, 
p.  122. 

5  Greg.  Nyssen.  in  Galland.  Bibliothec.  Patrum,  vi.  p.  610.  Ambrose,  in 
Hexaem.  iii.  1,  5.  S}Ties.  de  Prov.  ii.  p.  128,  edit.  Petav.  Symmach.  i. 
ep.  89. 

6  Liban.  pro  Salt.  v.  iii.  391. 

7  Sidon.  Apoll.  carm.  xxiii.  v.  267,  299. 


Chap.  H.  PANTOMBIES.  345 

by  the  celebrated  dancers  Caramalus  and  Phabaton.^ 
These  inckided  the  old  fables  of  Medea  and  Jason,  of 
the  house  of  Thyestes,  of  Tereus  and  Philomela, 
Jupiter  and  Europa,  and  Danae,  and  Leda,  and  Gany- 
mede, Mars  and  Yenus,  Perseus  and  Andromeda.  In 
the  West,  the  female  parts  thus  exhibited  were  like- 
wise represented  by  women, ^  of  whom  there  were  no 
less  than  three  thousand  in  Rome  ;  ^  and  so  important 
were  these  females  considered  to  the  public  amuse- 
ment, that,  on  the  expulsion  of  all  strangers  from 
the  city  during  a  famine,  an  exception  was  made  by 
the  praetor,  in  deference  to  the  popular  wishes,  in 
favor  of  this  class  'alone.  The  profession,  however, 
was  considered  infamous ;  and  the  indecency  of  their 
attire  upon  the  public  stage  justified  the  low  estimate 
of  their  moral  character.  Their  attractions  were  so 
dangerous  to  the  Roman  youth,  that  a  special  law 
prohibited  the  abduction  of  these  females  from  their 
public  occupation,  whether  the  enamored  lover  with- 
drew one  of  them  from  the  stage  as  his  mistress,  or, 
as  not  unfrequently  happened,  with  the  more  honorable 
title  of  wife.^  The  East,  though  it  sometimes  endured 
the  appearance  of  women  in  those  parts,  often  left 
them  to  be  performed  by  boys,  with  any  thing  but 
advantage  to  general  morality.  The  aversion  of 
Christianity  to  the  subjects  exhibited  by  the  panto- 
mimes, almost  invariably  moulded  up  as  they  were 
with    Paganism,   as    well    as    its    high    moral    sense 

1  Clauclian  mentions  a  youth,  who,  before  the  pit,  which  thundered  with 
applause :  — 

Aut  rigidam  Nioben  aut  flentem  Troada  fingit. 

2  Even  in  Constantinople,  women  acted  in  the  pantomimes.  Chiysostom 
(Hem.  6  Thessalon.)  denounces  the  performance  of  Phsedra  and  Hippolytus, 
by  women :  'flcTrfp  cufiaTog  tvtzo)  ^atvo[i£vag. 

•  Ammian.  Marcell.  xiv.  6.  4  Cod.  Theodos.  xv.  7,  5. 


346  PANTOMIMES.  Book  IV. 

(united,  perhaps,  with  something  of  the  disdain  of 
ancient  Rome  for  the  histrionic  art,  which  it  patron- 
ized nevertheless  with  inexhaustible  ardor),  branded 
the  performers  with  the  deepest  mark  of  public  con- 
tempt. They  were,  as  it  were,  public  slaves,  and 
could  not  abandon  their  profession.^  They  were  con- 
sidered unfit  to  mingle  with  respectable  society  ;  might 
not  appear  in  the  forum  or  basilica,  or  use  the  public 
baths ;  they  were  excluded  even  from  the  theatre  as 
spectators,  and  might  not  be  attended  by  a  slave, 
with  a  folding-stool  for  their  use.  Even  Christianity 
appeared  to  extend  its  mercies  and  its  hopes  to  this 
devoted  race  with  some  degree  of*  rigor  and  jealousy. 
The  actor  baptized  in  the  apparent  agony  of  death,  if 
he  should  recover,  could  not  be  forced  back  upon  the 
stage ;  but  the  guardian  of  the  public  amusements 
was  to  take  care,  lest,  by  pretended  sickness,  the 
actor  should  obtain  this  precious  privilege  of  baptism, 
and  thus  exemption  from  his  servitude.  Even  the 
daughters  of  actresses  partook  of  their  mothers'  infamy, 
and  could  only  escape  being  doomed  to  their  course 
of  life  by  the  profession  of  Christianity,  ratified  by  a 
certain  term  of  probationary  virtue.  If  the  actress 
relapsed  from  Ciu^istianity,  she  was  invariably  con- 
demned to  her  impure  servitude.^ 

Such  was  the  general  state  of  the  theatrical  exhi- 
bitions in  the  Roman  empire  at  that  period.  The 
higher  drama,  like  every  other  intellectual  and  in- 
ventive art,  had  to  undergo  the  influence  of  Chris- 
tianity before  it  could  revive  in  its  splendid  and 
prolific  energy.     In  all  European  countries,  the  Clu'is- 

1  Cod.  Theodos.  xv.  13.  Compare  Chastel,  p.  211,  concerning  the  lawa 
which  inflicted  dishonor  and  incapacity  on  actors. 

2  Cod.  Theodos.  de  Scenicis,  xv.  7,  2,  4,  8,  9. 


Chap.  II.    AMPHITHEATEE  —  GLADIATORIAL  SHOWS.  347 

tian  mystery,  as  it  was  called,  has  been  tlie  parent  of 
tragedy,  perhaps  of  comedy.  It  re-appeared  as  a 
purely  religious  representation,  having  retained  no 
remembrance  whatever  of  Paganism ;  and  was  at  one 
period,  perhaps,  the  most  effective  teacher,  in  times  of 
general  ignorance  and  total  scarcity  of  books,  both 
among  priests  and  people,  of  Christian  history  as  well 
as  of  Christian  legend.^ 

But,  at  a  later  period,  the  old  hereditary  hostility 
of  Christianity  to  the  theatre  has  constantly  revived. 
The  passages  of  the  Fathers  have  perpetually  been 
repeated  by  the  more  severe  preachers,  whether  fairly 
applicable  or  not  to  the  dramatic  entertainments  of 
different  periods  ;  and  in  general  it  has  had  the  effect 
of  keeping  the  actor  in  a  lower  caste  of  society,  —  a 
prejudice  often  productive  of  the  evil  which  it  pro- 
fessed to  correct ;  for  men  whom  the  general  senti- 
ment considers  of  a  low  moral  order  will  rarely  make 
the  vain  attempt  at  raising  themselves  above  it ;  if 
they  cannot  avoid  contempt,  they  will  care  little 
whether  they  deserve  it. 

III.  The  Amphitheatre,  with  its  shows  of  gladiators 
and  wild  beasts.  The  suppression  of  those  An,pi,i. 
bloody  spectacles,  in  which  human  behigs  Giadktoriai 
slaughtered  each  other  by  hundreds  for  the  ^^°'^^' 
diversion  of  their  fellow-men,  is  one  of  the  most  un- 
questionable and  proudest  triumphs  of  Christianity. 
The  gladiatorial  shows,  strictly  speaking,  —  that  is, 
the  mortal  combats  of  men,  —  were  never  introduced 
into  the  less  warlike  East,  though  the  combats  of  men 
with  wild  beasts  were  exhibited  in  Syria  and  other 
parts.  The  former  were  Roman  in  their  origin,  and 
to  their  termination.     It  might  seem  that  the  pride  of 

1  The  subject  is  reviewed  in  Latin  Christianity,  book  xiv.  c  4. 


848        AMPHITHEATRE  — GLADIATORIAL  SHOWS.     Book  IV. 

Roman  conquest  was  not  satisfied  with  the  execution 
of  her  desolating  mandates,  unless  the  whole  city 
witnessed  the  bloodshed  of  her  foreign  captives ;  and 
in  her  decline  she  seemed  to  console  herself  with  these 
sanguinary  proofs  of  her  still  extensive  empire :  the 
ferocity  survived  the  valor  of  her  martial  spirit. 
Barbarian  life  seemed,  indeed,  to  be  of  no  account, 
but  to  contribute  to  the  sports  of  the  Roman.  The 
humane  Symmachus,  even  at  this  late  period,^  re- 
proves the  impiety  of  some  Saxon  captives,  who,  by 
strangling  themselves  in  prison,  escaped  the  ignominy 
of  this  public  exhibition. ^  It  is  an  humiliating  con- 
sideration to  find  how  little  Roman  civilization  had 
tended  to  mitigate  tlie  ferocity  of  manners  and  of 
temperament.  Not  merely  did  women  crowd  the 
amphitheatre  during  the  combats  of  these  fierce  and 
almost  naked  savages  or  criminals,  but  it  was  the 
especial  privilege  of  the  vestal  virgin,  even  at  this  late 
period,  to  give  the  signal  for  the  mortal  blow,  to  watch 
the  sword  driven  deeper  into  the  palpitating  entrails.^ 
The  state  of  uncontrolled  frenzy  worked  up  even  the 
most  sober  spectators.  The  manner  in  which  this 
contagious  passion  for  bloodshed  engrossed  the  whole 
soul  is  described  with  singular  power  and  truth  by 

1  "  Quando  prohibuisset  privata  custodia  desperataa  gentis  impias  manus, 
?uin  viginti  novem  fractas  sine  laqueo  fauces  primus  ludi  gladiatorii  dies 
viderit."  —  Symmach.  lib.  ii.  epist.  46. 

2  It  is  curious  that  at  one  time  the  exposure  to  wild  beasts  was  considei'ed 
a  more  ignominious  punishment  than  fighting  as  a  gladiator.  The  slave  was 
condemned  to  the  former  for  kidnapping;  the  freeman,  to  the  latter.  —  Codex 
Theod.  iv.  18,  1. 

3  Virgo  —  consurgit  ad  ictus, 

Et  qiiotiens  Tictor  ferrum  jugulo  inserit,  ilia 
Delicias  ait  esse  suas,  pectusque  jacentis 
Virgo  modesta  jubet,  conTerso  pollice,  rumpi ; 
Ni  lateat  pars  ulla  animse  vitalibus  iiiiis, 
Altias  impresso  dum  palpitat  ense  secutor. 

Prudent,  adv.  Sym.  ii.  1095. 


Chap.  n.        AMPHITHEATRE  —  GLADIATORIAL  SHOWS.        349 

St.  Augustine.  A  Christian  student  of  the  law  was 
compelled  by  the  importunity  of  his  friends  to  enter 
the  amphitheatre.  He  sat  with  his  eyes  closed,  and 
his  mind  totally  abstracted  from  the  scene.  He  was 
suddenly  startled  from  his  trance  by  a  tremendous 
shout  from  the  whole  audience.  He  opened  his  eyes, 
he  could  not  but  gaze  on  the  spectacle.  Directly  he 
beheld  the  blood,  his  heart  imbibed  the  common 
ferocity ;  he  could  not  turn  away ;  his  eyes  were 
riveted  on  the  arena ;  and  tlie  interest,  the  excitement, 
the  pleasure,  grew  into  complete  intoxication.  He 
looked  on,  he  shouted,  he  was  inflamed ;  he  carried 
away  from  the  amphitheatre  an  irresistible  propensity 
to  return  to  its  cruel  enjoyments.^ 

Christianity  began  to  assail  this  deep-rooted  passion 
of  the  Roman  world  with  caution,  almost  with  timidity. 
Christian  Constantinople  was  never  defiled  with  the 
blood  of  gladiators.  In  the  same  year  as  that  of 
the  Council  of  Nicaea,  a  local  edict  was  issued,  declar- 
ing the  emperor's  disapprobation  of  these  sanguinary 
exhibitions  in  time  of  peace,  and  prohibiting  the  volun- 
teering of  men  as  gladiators.^  This  was  a  considera- 
ble step,  if  we  call  to  mind  the  careless  apathy  with 
which  Constantine,  before  his  conversion,  had  exhib- 
ited all  his  barbarian  captives  in  the  amphitheatre  at 
Treves.^  This  edict,  however,  addressed  to  the  Prefect 
of  Phoenicia,  had  no  permanent  effect ;  for  Libanius, 
several  years  after,  boasts  that  he  had  not  been  a 
spectator  of  the  gladiatorial  shows  still  regularly  cele- 
brated in  Syria.  Constantius  prohibited  soldiers,  and 
those  in  the  imperial  service  (Palatini),  from  hirmg 
themselves  out  to  the  Lanistae,  the  keepers  of  gladia- 

1  August.  Conf.  vi.  8,  2  Codex  Theodos.  xv.  12,  1. 

3  See  vol.  ii.  p.  325 


350  AMPHITHEATRE  — GLADIATORIAL   SHOWS.     Book  IV. 

tors.^  Yalentiiiian  decreed  that  no  Christian  or  Pala- 
tine should  be  condemned  for  any  crime  whatsoever  to 
the  arena.2  An  early  edict  of  Honorius  prohibited 
any  slave  who  had  been  a  gladiator^  from  being  ad- 
mitted into  the  service  of  a  man  of  senatorial  dignity. 
But  Christianity  now  began  to  speak  in  a  more  coura- 
geous and  commanding  tone.*  The  Christian  poet 
urges  on  the  Christian  emperor  the  direct  prohibition 
of  these  inhuman  and  disgraceful  exhibitions. -^  But 
a  single  act  often  affects  the  public  mind  much  more 
strongly  than  even  the  most  eloquent  and  re-iterated 
exhortation.  An  Eastern  monk,  named  Telemachus, 
travelled  all  the  way  to  Rome,  in  order  to  protest 
against  those  disgraceful  barbarities.  In  his  noble 
enthusiasm,  he  leaped  into  the  arena  to  separate  the 
combatants :  either  with  the  sanction  of  the  prefect, 
or  that  of  the  infuriated  assembly,  he  was  torn  to 
pieces,  the  martyr  of  Christian  humanity.^  The  im- 
pression of  this  awful  scene,  of  a  Christian,  a  monk, 
thus  murdered  in  the  arena,  was  so  profound,  that 
Honorius  issued  a  prohibitory  edict,  putting  an  end 
to  these  bloody  shows.  This  edict,  however,  only 
suppressed   the   mortal   combats   of  men :  ^   the   less 

1  Codex  Theodos.  xv.  12,  2.  2  ibid.  ix.  40,  8. 

3  Codex  Theodos.  ix.  40,  8.  *  Ibid.  xv.  12,  3. 

5  Arripe  dilatam  tua,  dux,  in  tempora  famam, 
Quodque  patri  superest,  successor  laudis  habeto. 
Ille  urbem  vetuit  taurorum  sanguine  tingi, 
Tu  mortes  miserorum  hominum  prohiibeto  litari : 
Nullus  in  urbe  cadat,  cujus  sit  poena  voluptas, 
Nee  sua  virginitas  oblectet  ctedibus  ora. 
Jam  solis  contenta  feris  infamis  arena, 
Nulla  cruentatis  homicidia  ludat  in  armis. 

Prudent,  adv.  Sym.  ii.  1121. 
6  Theodoret,  v.  26. 

■^  The  law  of  Honorius  is  not  extant  in  the  Theodosian  code,  which  only 
retains  those  of  Constantine  and  Constantius.  For  this  reason,  doubts  have 
been  thrown  on  the  authority  of  Theodoret;  but  there  is  no  recorded  in- 


Chap.  II.        AMPHITHEATRE -GLADIATORIAL   SHOWS.        351 

inhuman,  though  still  brutalizing,  conflicts  of  men 
with  wild  beasts  seems  scarcely  to  have  been  abol- 
ished^ till  the  diminution  of  wealth,  and  the  gradual 
contraction  of  the  limits  of  the  empire,  cut  off  both 
the  supply  and  the  means  of  purchasing  these  costly 
luxuries.^  The  revolted  or  conquered  provinces  of 
the  South,  the  East,  and  the  North,  no  longer  ren- 
dered up  their  accustomed  tribute  of  lions  from  Libya, 
leopards  from  the  East,  dogs  of  remarkable  ferocity 
from  Scotland,  of  crocodiles  and  bears,  and  every  kind 
of  wild  and  rare  animal.  The  emperor  Anthemius 
prohibited  the  lamentable  spectacles  of  wild  beasts  on 
the  Sunday ;  and  Salvian  still  inveighs  against  those 
bloody  exhibitions.  And  this  amusement  gradually 
degenerated,  if  the  word  may  be  used,  not  so  much 
from  the  improving  humanity,  as  from  the  pusillanim- 
ity of  the  people.  Arts  were  introduced  to  irritate 
the  fury  of  the  beast,  without  endangering  the  person 
of  the  combatant.  Such  arts  would  have  been  con- 
temptuously exploded  in  the  more  warlike  days  of  the 
empire.  It  became  a  mere  exhibition  of  skill  and 
agility.  The  beasts  were  sometimes  tamed  before 
they  were  exhibited.     In  the  West,  those  games  seem 

stance  of  gladiatorial  combats  between  man  and  man  since  this  period..  The 
passage  of  Salvian,  sometimes  alleged,  refers  to  combats  with  wild  beasts. 
"  Ubi  smnmum  deliciarum  genus  est  mori  homines,  aut  quod  est  mori  gra- 
vius  acerbiusque,  lacerari,  expleri  ferarum  alvos  humanis  carnibus,  comedi 
homines  cum  circumstantium  Isetitia,  conspicientium  voluptate."  —  De  Gub. 
Dei,  lib.  vi.  p.  51. 

1  Quicquid  monstriferis  nutrit  Gaetulia  campis, 
Alpina  quicquid  tegitur  nive,  Gallica  quicquid 
Silva  timet,  jaceat.    Largo  ditescat  arena 
Sanguine,  consumant  totos  spectacula  montes. 

Claud,  in  Cons.  Mall.  306. 

2  A  law  of  Honorius  provides  for  the  supply  of  wild  beasts  for  the  amphi- 
theatre at  Constantinople.  It  is  a  very  curious  provision.  —  Cod.  Theodos. 
XV.  xi.  2. 


352  THE  CIRCUS  —  CHARIOT  RACES.  Book  IV 

to  have  sunk  with  the  Western  empire  ;  ^  in  the  East, 
they  lingered  on  so  as  to  require  a  special  prohibition 
by  the  Council  in  Trullo  at  Constantinople,  at  the 
close  of  the  seventh  century. 

TV.  The  chariot  race  of  the  circus.  If  these  former 
The  circus,  exhibitious  were  prejudicial  to  the  modesty 
Chariot  races,  ^j^^  humauity  of  the  Roman  people,  the 
chariot  races  were  no  less  fatal  to  their  peace.  This 
frenzy  did  not,  indeed,  reach  its  height  till  the  middle 
of  the  fifth  century,  when  the  animosities  of  political 
and  religious  difference  were  outdone  by  factions  en- 
listed in  favor  of  the  rival  charioteers  in  the  circus. 
As  complete  a  separation  took  place  in  society ;  ad- 
verse parties  were  banded  against  each  other  in  as 
fierce  opposition ;  an  insurrection  as  destructive  and 
sanguinary  took  place ;  the  throne  of  the  emperor  was 
as  fearfully  shaken  in  the  collision  of  the  Blue  and 
Green  factions,  as  ever  it  had  been  in  defence  of  the 
sacred  rights  of  liberty  or  of  faith.  Constantinople 
seemed  to  concentre  on  the  circus  all  that  absorbing 
interest,  which  at  Rome  was  divided  by  many  specta- 
cles. The  Christian  city  seemed  to  compensate  to 
itself  for  the  excitement  of  those  games  which  were 
prohibited  by  the  religion,  by  the  fury  with  which  it 
embraced  those  which  were  allowed,  or  rather  against 
which  Cliristianity  remonstrated  in  vain.  Her  milder 
tone  of  persuasiveness,  and  her  more  authoritative 
interdiction,  were  equally  disregarded,  where  the  sov- 
ereign and  the  whole  people  yielded  to  the  common 
frenzy.  But  this  consolation  remained  to  Christianity, 
that,  when  it  was  accused  of  distracting  the  imperial 

1  Agincourt  (Histoire  de  I'Art)  is  of  opinion  that  Theodoret  substituted 
military  games  for  theatrical  shows,  and  that  these  military  games  were  the 
origin  of  the  tournaments.  The  wild  beast  shows  were  still  celebrated  at 
Rome.  —  Cassiod.,  Epist.  v.  42. 


Chap.u.  the  circus  —  chariot  races.  353 

city  with  religious  dissension,  it  might  allege,  that 
this  at  least  was  a  nobler  subject  of  difference ;  or, 
rather,  that  the  passions  of  men  seized  upon  religious 
distinctions  with  no  greater  eagerness  than  they  did 
on  these  competitions  for  the  success  of  a  chariot 
driver  in  a  blue  or  a  green  jacket,  in  order  to  gratify 
their  inextinguishable  love  of  strife  and  animosity. 


VOL.  III.  28 


354  CHRISTIAN  LITERATURE.  Booi  IV 


CHAPTER    III. 

Christian  Literature. 

Christianity  was  extensively  propagated  in  an  age  in 
which  Greek  and  Latin  literature  had  fallen  into  hope- 
less degeneracy  ;  nor  could  even  its  spirit  awaken  the 
dead.  Both  these  languages  had  already  attained  and 
passed  their  complete  development :  they  had  fulfilled 
their  part  in  the  imaginative  and  intellectual  advance- 
ment of  mankind  ;  and  it  seems,  in  general,  as  much 
beyond  the  power  of  the  genius  of  a  country,  as  of 
an  individual,  to  renew  its  youth.  It  was  not  till  it 
had  created  new  languages,  or  rather  till  languages 
had  been  formed  in  which  the  religious  notions  of 
Christianity  were  an  elementary  and  constituent  part, 
that  Christian  literature  assumed  its  free  and  natural 
dignity. 

The  genius  of  the  new  religion  never  coalesced  in 
perfect  and  amicable  harmony  with  either  the  Greek 
or  the  Latin  tongue.  In  each  case  it  was  a  foreign 
dialect,  introduced  into  a  fully  formed  and  completely 
organized  language.  The  Greek,  notwithstanding  its 
exquisite  pliancy,  with  difficulty  accommodated  itself 
to  the  new  sentiments  and  opinions.  It  had  either  to 
endure  the  naturalization  of  new  words,  or  to  deflect 
its  own  terms  to  new  significations.  In  the  latter  case, 
the  doctrines  were  endangered ;  in  the  former,  the 
purity  of  the  language ;  more  especially  since  the 
Oriental  writers  were  in  general  alien  to  the  Grecian 


CHAP.ni.  GREEK  AND  ROMAN  LITERATURE  355 

mind.  The  Greek  language  had,  indeed,  long  before 
yielded  to  the  contaminating  influences  of  Barbarism. 
From  Homer  to  Demosthenes,  it  had  varied 

1  1       T  .  .         T     Degeneracy. 

m  its  style  and  character,  but  had  maintained  Fate  of 

•^  '  Greek  litera- 

its   admirable  perfection,  as  the  finest,  the  tureand 

^  '  ^  language. 

clearest,  and  most  versatile  instrument  of 
poetry,  oratory,  or  philosophy.  But  the  conquests  of 
Greece  were  as  fatal  to  her  language  as  to  her  liber- 
ties. The  Macedonian,  the  language  of  the  conquer- 
ors, was  not  the  purest  Greek ;  ^  and  in  general,  by 
the  extension  over  a  wider  surface,  the  stream  con- 
tracted a  taint  from  every  soil  over  which  it  flowed. 
Alexandria  was  probably  the  best  school  of  foreign 
Grecian  style,  at  least  in  literature  ;  in  Syria  it  had 
always  been  infected  in  some  degree  by  the  admixture 
of  Oriental  terms.  The  Hellenistic  style,  as  it  has 
been  called,  of  the  New  Testament,  may  be  considered 
a  fair  example  of  the  language,  as  it  was  spoken  in 
the  provinces  among  persons  of  no  high  degree  of 
intellectual  culture. 

The   Latin   seemed   no   less    to   have    fulfilled    its 
mission,  and  to  have  passed  its  culminatino- 

.  -,  /^x-       -in.  Of  Roman. 

point.  111  the  verse  oi  Virgil  and  the  prose 
of  Cicero.  Its  stern  and  masculine  majesty,  its  plain 
and  practical  vigor,  seemed  as  if  it  could  not  outlive 
the  republican  institutions,  in  the  intellectual  conflicts 
of  which  it  had  been  formed.  The  impulse  of  the  old 
freedom  carried  it  through  the  reign  of  Augustus,  but 
no  further ;  and  it  had  undergone  rapid  and  progressive 
deterioration  before  it  was  called  upon  to  discharge 
its  second  office  of  disseminating  and  preserving  the 
Christianity  of  the  West;   and   the   Latin,   like   the 

1  Compare  the  dissertation  of  Sturz  on  the  Macedonian  dialect,  reprinted 
in  the  prolegomena  to  Valpy's  edition  of  Stephens's  Thesaurus. 


356  CHRISTIAN  LITERATURE.  Book  IV. 

Greek,  had  suffered  by  its  own  triumphs.  Among 
the  more  distinguished  Heathen  writers,  subsequent 
to  Augustus,  tlie  largest  number  were  of  provincial 
origin ;  and  something  of  their  foreign  tone  still  ad- 
hered to  their  style.  Of  the  best  Latin  Christian 
writers,  it  is  remarkable  that  not  one  was  a  Roman, 
not  one,  except  Ambrose,  an  Italian.  Tertulliaii, 
Cyprian,  Arnobius  (perhaps  Lactantius),  and  Augus- 
tine were  Africans ;  the  Roman  education  and  supe- 
rior understanding  of  the  last  could  not  altogether 
refine  away  that  rude  provincialism  which  darkened 
the  whole  language  of  the  others.  The  writings  of 
Hilary  are  obscured  by  anotlier  dialect  of  Barbarism. 
Even  at  so  late  a  period,  whatever  exceptions  may  be 
made  to  the  taste  of  his  conceptions  and  of  his  imagery, 
with  some  limitation,  the  Roman  style  of  Claudian, 
and  the  structure  of  his  verse,  carries  us  back  to  the 
time  of  Virgil ;  in  Prudentius,  it  is  not  merely  the 
inferiority  of  the  poet,  but  something  foreign  and 
uncongenial  refuses  to  harmonize  with  the  adopted 
poetic  language.^ 

Yet  it  was  impossible  that  such  an  enthusiasm  could 
Christian  ^®  disscminatcd  through  the  empire,  without 
literature.  -^^  somo  degree  awakening  the  torpid  lan- 
guages. The  mind  could  not  be  so  deeply  stirred, 
without  expressing  itself  with  life  and  vigor,  even  if 
with  diminished  elegance  and  dignity.  No  one  can 
compare  the  energetic  sentences  of  Chrysostom  with 
the  prolix  and  elaborate,  if  more  correct,  periods  of 
Libanius,  without  acknowledging  that  a  new  principle 
of  vitality  has  been  infused  into  the  language. 

1  Among  the  most  remarkable  productions  as  to  Latinity  are  the  Ecclesi- 
astical History  and  Life  of  St.  Martin  of  Tours,  by  Sulpicius  Severus ;  the 
.legendary  matter  of  which  contrasts  singularly  with  the  perspicuous  and 
almost  classical  elegance  of  the  style.  —  See  post,  on  Minucius  Felix. 


Chap.  ni.  CHRISTIAN  LITERATURE.  357 

But,  in  fact,  the  ecclesiastical  Greek  and  Latin  are 
new  dialects  of  the  ancient  tongue.  Their  literature 
stands  entirely  apart  from  that  of  Greece  or  Rome. 
The  Greek  already  j^ossessed  the  foundation  of  this 
literature  in  the  Septuagint  version  of  the  Old,  and  in 
the  original  of  the  New  Testament.  The  Yulgate  of 
Jerome,  which  almost  immediately  superseded  the 
older  imperfect  or  inaccurate  versions  from  the  Greek, 
supplied  the  same  groundwork  to  Latin  Christendom. 
There  is  something  singularly  rich,  and,  if  I  may  so 
speak,  picturesque,  in  the  Latin  of  the  Vulgate ;  the 
Orientalism  of  the  Scripture  is  blended  up  with  such 
curious  felicity  with  the  idiom  of  the  Latin,  that, 
although  far  removed  either  from  the  colloquial  ease 
of  the  comic  poets  or  the  purity  of  Cicero,  it  both 
delights  the  ear  and  fills  the  mind.  It  is  an  original 
and  somewhat  foreign,  but  nevertheless  an  expressive 
and  harmonious,  dialect.^  It  has,  no  doubt,  powerfully 
influenced  the  religious  style,  not  merely  of  the  later 
Latin  writers,  but  those  of  the  modern  languages  of 
which  Latin  is  the  parent.  Constantly  quoted,  either 
in  its  express  words,  or  in  terms  approaching  closely 
to  its  own,  it  contributed  to  form  the  dialect  of  eccle- 
siastical Latin,  which  became  the  religious  language 
of  Europe ;  and,  as  soon  as  religion  condescended  to 
employ  the  modern  languages  in  its  service,  was  trans- 
fused as  a  necessary  and  integral  part  of  that  which 
related   to  religion.     Christian  literature  was  as  yet 

1  There  appears  to  me  more  of  the  Oriental  character  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment of  the  Vulgate  than  in  the  LXX.  That  translation  having  been  made 
by  Greeks,  or  by  Jews  domiciled  in  a  Greek  city,  the  Hebrew  style  seems 
subdued,  as  far  as  possible,  to  the  Greek.  Jerome  seems  to  have  endeavored 
to  Hebraize  or  Orientalize  his  Latin. 

The  story  of  Jerome's  nocturnal  flagellation  for  his  attachment  to  profane 
literature  rests  (as  we  have  seen)  on  his  own  •  authority ;  but  his  later  works 
show  that  the  oftending  spirit  was  not  effectively  scourged  out  of  him. 


358  POETRY  — SACRED  WRITINGS.  Book  IV. 

purely  religious  in  its  scope  :  though  it  ranged  over 
the  whole-  field  of  ancient  poetry,  philosophy,  and 
history,-  its  sole  object  was  the  illustration  or  confir- 
mation of  Christian  opinion. 

For  many  ages,  and  indeed  as  long  as  it  spoke  the 
ancient  lan<>:uaoes,  the  new  reli2;ion  was  bar- 

Poetry.  o       o      j  o 

ren  of  poetry  in  all  its  loftier  departments, 
at  least  of  that  which  was  poetry  in  form  as  well  as 
m  spirit. 

The  religion  itself  was  the  poetry  of  Christianity. 
The  sacred  books  were  to  the  Christians  what  the 
national  epic  and  the  sacred  lyric  had  been  to  the  other 
races  of  antiquity.  They  occcupied  the  place,  and 
proscribed  in  their  superior  sanctity,  or  defied  by  their 
unattainable  excellence,  all  rivalry.  The  Church  suc- 
ceeded to  the  splendid  inheritance  of  the  Hebrew 
temple  and  synagogue.  The  Psalms  and  the  Prophets, 
if  they  departed  somewhat  from  their  original  simple 
energy  and  grandeur  in  the  uncongenial  and  too 
polished  languages  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  still, 
in  their  imagery,  their  bold  impersonations,  the  power 
and  majesty  of  their  manner,  as  well  as  in  the  sub- 
limity of  the  notions  of  divine  power  aiid  wisdom 
with  which  they  were  instinct,  stood  alone  in  the  re- 
ligious poetry  of  mankind. 

The  religious  books  of  Christianity,  though  of  a 
Sacred  gcutlcr  cast,  and  only  in  a  few  short  passages 

writings.  Qxiidi  in  the  grand  poetic  drama  of  the  Reve- 
lation) poetical  in  their  form,  had  much,  especially  in 
their  narratives,  of  the  essence  of  poetry ;  the  power 
of  awakening  kindred  emotions ;  the  pure  simplicity 
of  truth,  blended  with  imagery  and  with  language 
which  kindled  the  fancy.  Faith  itself  was  constantly 
summoning  the  imagination  to  its  aid,  to  realize,  to 


Chap.  in.  POETRY  —  SACRED  WRITINGS.  359 

impersonate,  those  scenes  wliicli  were  described  in  the 
sacred  volume,  and  which  it  was  thus  enabled  to 
embrace  with  greater  fervor  and  sincerity.  All  the 
other  early  Christian  poetry  was  pale  and  lifeless  in 
comparison  with  that  of  the  sacred  writers.  Some 
few  hymns,  as  the  noble  Te  Deum  ascribed  to  Ambrose, 
were  admitted,  with  the  Psalms,  and  the  short  lyric 
passages  in  the  New  Testament,  the  Magnificat,  the 
Nunc  Dimittis,  and  the  Alleluia,  into  the  services  of 
the  Church.  But  the  sacred  volume  commianded 
exclusive  adoration,  not  merely  by  its  sanctity,  but  by 
its  unrivalled  imagery  and  sweetness.  Each  sect  had 
its  hymns ;  and  those  of  the  Gnostics,  with  the  rival 
strains  of  the  orthodox  churches  of  Syria,  attained 
great  popularity.  But  in  general  these  compositions 
were  only  a  feebler  echo  of  the  strong  and  vivid 
sounds  of  the  Hebrew  psalms.  The  epic  and  tragic 
form  into  which,  in  the  time  of  Julian,  the  Scripture 
narratives  were  cast,  in  order  to  provide  a  Christian 
Homer  and  Euripides  for  those  schools  in  which  the 
originals  were  interdicted,  were  probably  but  cold 
paraphrases,  the  Hebrew  poetry  expressed  in  an  incon- 
gruous cento  of  the  Homeric  or  tragic  phraseology. 
The  garrulous  feebleness  of  Gregory's  own  poem  does 
not  awaken  any  regret  for  the  loss  of  those  writings 
either  of  his  own  composition  or  of  his  age.^  Even 
in  the  martyrdoms,  the  noblest  unoccupied  subjects 
for  Christian  verse,  the  poetry  seems  to  have  forced 
its  way  into   the   legend,  rather  than   animated   the 

1  The  Greek  poetry  after  Nazianzen  was  almost  silent :  some,  perhaps,  of 
the  hymns  are  ancient  (one  particularly  in  Routh's  Reliquiae).  See  likewise 
Smith's  account  of  the  Greek  Church.  The  hymns  of  Synesius  are  very  inter- 
esting as  illustrative  of  the  state  of  religious  sentiment,  and  by  no  means 
without  beauty.  But  may  we  call  these  dreamy  Platonic  raptures  Christian 
poetry? 


360  POETRY— SACRED  WRITINGS.  Book  IV. 

writer  of  verse.  Prudentius  —  whose  finest  lines 
(and  they  are  sometimes  of  a  very  spirited,  senten- 
tious, and  eloquent,  if  not  poetic  cast)  occur  in  his 
other  poems  —  on  these,  which  would  appear  at  first 
far  more  promising  subjects,  is  sometimes  pretty  and 
fanciful,  but  scarcely  more.^ 

1  One  of  the  best,  or  rather  perhaps  prettiest,  passages  is  that  which  has 
been  selected  as  a  hymn  for  the  Innocents'  day:  — 

Salvete  flores  martyruni 

Quos  lucis  ipso  in  limine, 

Christi  insecutor  sustulit 

Ceu  turbo  nascentes  rosas. 

Vos,  prima  Christi  victima, 

Grex  immolatorum  tener, 

Aram  ante  ipsam  simplices 

Palma  et  coronis  luditis. 
But  these  are  only  a  few  stanzas  out  of  a  long  hymn  on  the  Epiphany.  The 
best  verses  in  Prudentius  are  to  be  found  in  the  books  against  Symmachus; 
but  their  highest  praise  is  that,  in  their  force  and  energy,  they  ajyjyroach  to 
Claudian.  With  regard  to  Claudian,  I  cannot  refrain  from  repeating  what  I 
have  stated  in  another  place,  as  it  is  so  closely  connected  with  the  subject  of 
Christian  poetry.  M.  Beugnot  has  pointed  out  one  remarkable  characteristic 
of  Claudian's  poetiy  and  of  the  times,  —  his  extraordinary  religious  indiffer- 
ence. Here  is  a  poet  -writing  at  the  actual  crisis  of  the  complete  triumph  of 
the  new  religion,  and  the  visible  extinction  of  the  old :  if  we  may  so  speak, 
a  strictly  historical  poet,  whose  works,  excepting  his  mythological  poem  on 
the  rape  of  Proserpine  are  confined  to  temporary  subjects,  and  to  the  politics 
of  his  own  eventful  times ;  yet,  excepting  in  one  or  two  small  and  indifferent 
pieces  manifestly  written  by  a  Christian  and  interpolated  among  Claudian's 
poems,  there  is  no  allusion  whatever  to  the  great  religious  strife.  No  one 
would  know  the  existence  of  Christianity  at  that  period  of  the  world  by  read- 
ing the  works  of  Claudian.  His  panegyric  and  his  satire  preserve  the  same 
religious  impartiality;  award  their  most  lavish  praise  or  their  bitterest  invec- 
tive on  Christian  or  Pagan :  he  insults  the  fall  of  Eugenius,  and  glories  in 
the  victories  of  Theodosius.  Under  the  child  of  Theodosius,  —  and  Honorius 
never  became  more  than  a  child,  —  Christianity  continued  to  inflict  womids 
more  and  more  deadly  on  expiring  Paganism.  Are  the  gods  of  Olympus 
agitated  with  apprehension  at  the  birth  of  their  new  enemy  ?  They  are  in- 
troduced as  rejoicing  at  his  appearance,  and  promising  long  years  of  glory. 
The  whole  prophetic  choir  of  Paganism,  all  the  oracles  throughout  the  world, 
are  summoned  to  predict  the  felicity  of  the  reign  of  Honorius.  His  birth  is 
compared  to  that  of  Apollo ;  but  the  narrow  limits  of  an  island  must  not 

confine  the  new  deity,  — 

Non  littora  nostro 
SufiScerent  angusta  Deo. 
Augury  and  divination,  the  shrines  of  Ammon  and  of  Delphi,  the  Persian 


CHAP.m.      POETRY  — SACRED  WRITINGS.  361 

There  is  more  of  tlie  essence  of  poetry  in  the  simpler 
and  unadorned  Acts  of  the  Martyrs,  more  pathos,  oc- 

magi,  the  Etruscan  seers,  the  Chaldasan  astrologers,  the  Sibyl  herself,  are  de- 
scribed as  still  discharging  their  poetic  functions,  and  celebrating  the  natal 
day  of  this  Christian  prince.  They  are  noble  lines,  as  weU  as  curious  illus- 
trations of  the  times :  — 

Quae  tunc  documenta  futuri  ? 

Quae  voces  avium  ?  quanti  per  inane  volatus  ? 

Quis  vatum  discursus  erat  ?    Tibi  corniger  Ammon, 

Et  dudum  taciti  rupere  sileutia  Delphi. 

Te  Persae  cecinere  Magi,  te  sensit  Etruscus 

Augur,  et  inspectis  Babylonius  horruit  astris  : 

Chaldaei  stupuere  senes,  Cumanaque  rursus 

Intonuit  rupes,  rabidse  delubra  Sibyllae. 

Note  on  Gibbon,  v.  249. 

But  Roman  poetry  expired  with  Claudian.  In  the  vast  mass  of  the  Chris- 
tian Latin  poetry  of  this  period,  independent  of  the  perpetual  faults  against 
metre  and  taste,  it  is  impossible  not  to  acknowledge  that  the  subject  matter 
appears  foreign,  and  irreconcilable  with  the  style  of  the  verse.  Christian 
images  and  sentiments,  the  frequent  biblical  phrases  and  expressions,  are 
not  yet  naturalized;  and  it  is  almost  impossible  to  select  any  passage  of  con- 
siderable length  from  the  whole  cycle,  which  can  be  offered  as  poetry.  I  ex- 
cept a  few  of  the  hymns,  and  even  as  to  the  hymns  (setting  aside  the  Te 
Deum),  paradoxical  as  it  may  sound,  I  cannot  but  think  the  later  and  more 
barbarous  the  best.  There  is  nothing  in  my  judgment  to  be  compared  with 
the  monkish  ''  Dies  irse,  dies  ilia,"  or  even  the  "  Stabat  Mater." 

I  am  inclined  to  select,  as  a  favorable  specimen  of  Latin  poetry,  the  fol- 
lowing almost  unknown  lines  (they  are  not  in  the  earlier  editions  of  Dracon- 
tius).  I  have  three  reasons  for  my  selection:  1.  The  real  merit  of  the  verses 
compared  to  most  of  the  Christian  poetry ;  2.  Their  opposition  to  the  prevail- 
ing tenet  of  celibacy,  for  which  cause  they  are  quoted  by  Theiner;  3.  The 
interest  which  early  poetry  on  this  subject  (Adam  in  Paradise)  must  possess 
to  the  countrymen  of  Milton. 

"  Tunc  oculos  per  cuncta  jacit,  niiratur  amoenum 
Sicflorere  locum,  sic  puros  fontibus  amnes, 
Quatuor  undisonas  stringenti  gurgite  ripas, 
Ire  per  arboreos  saltus,  camposque  virentes 
Miratur ;  sed  quid  sit  homo,  quos  factus  ad  usus 
Scire  cupit  simplex,  et  non  habet,  unde  requirat ; 
Quo  merito  sibimet  data  sit  possessio  mundi, 
Et  domus  alma  nemus  per  florea  regna  paratum : 
Ac  procul  expectat  virides  jumenta  per  agros  ; 
Et  de  se  tacitus,  quae  sint  base  cuncta,  requirit, 
Et  quare  secum  non  sint  haec  ipsa,  volutat : 
Nam  consorte  carens,  cum  quo  conferret,  egebat.  , 

Viderat  Omnipotens,  haec  ilium  corde  moventem, 
Et  miseratus  ait :  Demus  adjutoria  facto  ; 
Participem  generis  :  tanquam  si  diceret  auctor, 


362  POETRY  — SACRED  WRITINGS.  Book  IV. 

casionally  more  grandeur,  more  touching  incident  and 
expression,  and  even,  we  may  venture  to  say,  happier 

Non  solum  decet  esse  virum,  consortia  blanda 
Noverit,  uxor  erit,  quum  sit  tamen  ille  maritus, 
Conjugium  se  quisque  vocet,  dulcedo  recurrat 
Cordibus  innocuis,  et  sit  sibi  pignus  uterque 
Velle  pares,  et  nolle  pares,  stans  una  voluntas, 
Par  animi  concors,  paribus  concurrere  votis. 
Ambo  sibi  requies  cordis  sint,  ambo  fideles, 
Et  quicunque  datur  casus,  sit  causa  duorum 
Nee  mora,  jam  venit  alma  quies,  oculosque  supinat 
Somnus,  et  in  dulcem  solvuntur  membra  soporem. 
Sed  quum  jure  Deus,  nullo  prohibente  valeret 
Demere  particulam,  de  quo  plus  ipse  pararat, 
Ne  vi  oblata  daret  juveni  sua  costa  dolorem, 
Redderet  et  tristem  subito,  quem  laedere  nollet, 
Fur  opifex  vult  esse  suus  ;  nam  posset  et  illam 
Pulvere  de  simili  princeps  formare  puellam. 
Sed  quo  plenus  amor  toto  de  corde  veniret, 
Noscere  in  uxore  voluit  sua  membra  maritum, 
Dividitur  contexta  cutis,  subducitur  una 
Sensim  costa  viro,  sed  mox  reditura  marito. 
Nam  juTenis  de  parte  brevi  formatur  adulta 
Virgo,  decora,  rudis,  matura  tumentibus  annis, 
Conjugii,  sobolisque  capax,  quibus  apta  probatur, 
Et  sine  lacte  pio  crescit  infantia  pubes, 

Excutitur  somno  juvenis,  videt  ipse  puellam 
Ante  oculos  astare  suos,  pater,  inde  maritus. 
Non  tamen  ex  costa  genitor,  sed  conjugis  auctor. 
Somnus  erat  partus,  conceptus  semine  nullo, 
Materiem  sopita  quies  produxit  amoris, 
Affectusque  novos  blandi  genuere  sopores. 
Constitit  ante  oculos  nullo  Telamine  tecta, 
Corpore  nuda  simul  niveo,  quasi  nympha  profundi, 
Caesaries  intonsa  comis,  gena  palchra  rubore. 
Omnia  pulchra  gerens,  oculos,  os,  colla,  manusque, 
Vel  qualem  possent  digiti  formare  Tonantis. 
Nescia  mens  illis,  fieri  qu£e  causa  fuisset  ; 
Tunc  Deus  et  princeps  ambos  conjunxit  in  unum, 
Et  remeat  sua  costa  viro ;  sua  membra  recepit ; 
Accipit  et  fcenus,  quum  non  sit  debitor  ullus. 
His  datur  omnis  humus,  et  quicquid  jussa  creavit, 
Aeris  et  pelagi  foetus,  elementa  duorum, 
Arbitrio  commissa  manent.    His,  crescite,  dixit 
Omnipotens,  replete  solum  de  semine  vestro. 
Sanguinis  ingeniti  natos  nutrite  nepotes, 
Et  de  prole  novos  iterum  copulate  jugales 
Et  dum  terra  fretum,  dum  ccelum  sublevat  aer, 
Dum  solis  micat  axe  jubar,  dum  luna  tenebras 
Dissipat,  et  puro  lucent  mea  sidera  coelo ; 
gumere,  quicquid  habent  pomaria  nostra  licebit ; 


Chap.  HI.  LEGENDS.  363 

invention,  than  in  the  prolix  and  inanimate  strains  of 
the  Christian  poet.  For  the  awakened  imagination 
was  not  content  with  feasting  in  silence  on  its  lawful 
nutriment,  the  poetry  of  the  Bible :  it  demanded  and 
received  perpetual  stimulants,  which  increased,  instead 
of  satisfying,  the  appetite.  That  peculiar  state  of  the 
human  mind  had  now  commenced,  in  which  the  im- 
agination so  far  predominates  over  the  other  faculties, 
that  truth  cannot  help  arraying  itself  in  the  garb  of 
fiction ;  credulity  courts  fiction,  and  fiction  believes 
its  own  fables.  That  some  of  the  Christian 
legends  were  deliberate  forgeries  can  scarcely 
be  questioned ;  the  principle  of  pious  fraud  appeared 
to  justify  this  mode  of  working  on  the  popular  mind ; 
it  was  admitted  and  avowed.  To  deceive  into  Chris- 
tianity was  so  valuable  a  service,  as  to  hallow  deceit 
itself.  But  the  largest  portion  was  probably  the 
natural  birth  of  that  imaginative  excitement  which 
quickens  its  day-dreams  and  nightly  visions  into 
reality.  The  Christian  lived  in  a  supernatural  world  : 
the  notion  of  the  divine  power,  the  perpetual  inter- 
ference of  the  Deity,  the  agency  of  the  countless 
invisible  beings  which  hovered  over  mankind,  was 
so  strongly  impressed  upon  the  belief,  that  every 
extraordinary,  and  almost  every  ordinary,  incident  be- 
came a  miracle ;  every  inward  emotion,  a  suggestion 
either  of  a  good  or  an  evil  spirit.  A  mythic  period 
was  thus  gradually  formed,  in  which  reality  melted 
into  fable,  and  invention  unconsciously  trespassed  on 

Nam  totum  quod  terra  creat,  quod  pontus  et  aer 
Protulit,  addictum  vestro  sub  jure  manebit, 
Deliciaeque  fluent  Tobis,  et  honesta  voluptas ; 
Arboris  unius  tantum  nescite  saporem." 

Dracontii  Presbyt.  Hispani  Christ,  secul.  v.  sub  Theodos.  M.  Cannina,  a 
F.  Arevalo.    Eomse,  1791.    Carmen  de  Deo,  lib.  i.  v.  348,  415. 


364  SPURIOUS  GOSPELS.  Book  IV. 

the  province  of  history.  This  invention  had  very  early 
Spurious  let  itself  loose,  in  the  spurious  Gospels,  or 
Gospels.     g^(.QQ^^j;^tg  Qf  ^1-^0  Hyqs  of  the  Saviour  and  his 

apostles,  which  were  chiefly,  I  conceive,  composed 
among,  or  rather  against,  the  sects  which  were  less 
scrupulous  in  their  veneration  for  the  sacred  books. 
Unless  Antidocetic,  it  is  difficult  to  imagine  any 
serious  object  in  fictions,  in  general  so  fantastic  and 
puerile.^  This  example  had  been  set  by  some,  proba- 
bly, of  the  foreign  Jews,  whose  apocryphal  books  were 
as  numerous  and  as  wild  as  those  of  the  Christian 
sectaries.  The  Jews  had  likewise  anticipated  them  in 
the  interpolation  or  fabrication  of  the  Sibylline  verses. 
The  fourth  book  of  Esdras,  the  Shepherd  of  Hermas,^ 
and  other  prophetic  works,  grew  out  of  the  Prophets 
and  the  book  of  Revelation,  as  the  Gospels  of  Nico- 
demus,  and  that  of  the  Infancy,  and  the  various 
spurious  acts  of  the   different  apostles,^  out   of  the 

1  Compare  what  has  been  said  on  the  Gospel  of  the  Infancy,  vol.  i.  p. 
136;  though  I  would  now  observe  that  the  antiquity  of  this  Gospel  is  very 
dubious. 

2  The  Shepherd  of  Hermas,  as  Bunsen  has  well  shown,  is  a  kind  of  an- 
cient Pilgrim's  Progress.  —  Christianity  and  Mankind,  i.  182. 

3  Compare  the  Codex  Apocrj'phus  Novi  Testamenti,  by  J.  A.  Fabricius, 
and  Jones  on  the  Canon.  A  more  elaborate  collection  of  these  curious  docu- 
ments has  been  commenced  (I  trust  not  abandoned)  by  Dr.  Thilo,  Lipsiae, 
1832.  Of  these,  by  far  the  most  remarkable,  in  its  composition  and  its  influ- 
ence, was  the  Gospel  of  Nicodemus.  The  author  of  this  work  was  a  poet, 
and  of  no  mean  invention.  The  latter  part,  which  describes  the  descent  of 
the  Saviour  to  hell,  to  deliver  "the  spirits  in  prison,"  according  to  the  hint 
in  the  Epistle  of  St.  Peter  (1  Peter  iii.  19),  is  extremely  striking  and  dra- 
matic. This  "harrowing  of  hell,"  as  it  is  called  in  the  old  mysteries,  be- 
came a  favorite  topic  of  Christian  legend,  founded  on,  and  tending  greatly  to 
establish  the  popular  belief  in,  a  purgatory,  and  to  open,  as  it  were,  to  the 
fears  of  man  the  terrors  of  the  penal  state.  With  regard  to  these  spurious 
Gospels  in  general,  it  is  a  curious  question  in  what  manner,  so  little  noticed 
as  they  are  in  the  higher  Christian  literature,  they  should  have  reached 
down,  and  so  completely  incorporated  themselves,  in  the  dark  ages,  with  the 
superstitions  of  the  vulgar.  They  would  never  have  furnished  so  many  sub- 
jects to  painting,  if  they  had  not  been  objects  of  popular  belief. 


Chap.  HI.  HISTORY.  365 

Gospels  and  Acts.  The  Recognitions  and  other  tracts 
which  are  called  the  Clementina,  partake  more  of  the 
nature  of  religious  romance.  Many  of  the  former 
were  obviously  intended  to  pass  for  genuine  records, 
and  must  be  proscribed  as  unwarrantable  fictions  : 
the  latter  may  rather  have  been  designed  to  trace, 
and  so  to  awaken,  religious  feelings,  than  as  altogether 
real  history.  The  lives  of  St.  Anthony  by  u^egof 
Athanasius,  and  of  Hilarion  by  Jerome,  are  ^^''^^' 
the  prototypes  of  the  countless  biographies  of  saints ; 
and,  with  a  strong  outline  of  truth,  became  imper- 
sonations of  the  feeling,  the  opinions,  the  belief,  of 
the  time.  We  have  no  reason  to  doubt  that  the 
authors  implicitly  believed  whatever  of  fiction  em- 
bellishes their  own  unpremeditated  fables :  the  color- 
ing, though  fanciful  and  inconceivable  to  our  eyes, 
was  fresh  and  living  to  theirs. 

History  itself  could  only  reflect  the  proceedings  of 
the  Christian  world,  as  they  appeared  to  that 
world.  We  may  lament  that  the  annals  of 
Christianity  found  in  the  earliest  times  no  historian 
more  judicious  and  trustworthy  than  Eusebius  ;  the 
heretical  sects  no  less  prejudiced  and  more  philo- 
sophical chronicler  than  Epiphanius :  but  in  them,  if 
not  scrupulously  veracious  reporters  of  the  events  and 
characters  of  the  times,  we  possess  almost  all  that  we 
could  reasonably  hope ;  faithful  reporters  of  the  opin- 
ions entertained,  and  the  feelings  excited  by  both. 
Few  Christians  of  that  day  would  not  have  considered 
it  the  sacred  duty  of  a  Christian  to  adopt  that  principle, 
avowed  and  gloried  in  by  Eusebius,  but  now  made  a 
bitter  reproach,  that  he  would  relate  all  that  was  to 
the  credit,  and  pass  lightly  over  all  which  was  to  the 


366  HISTORY.  Book  IV. 

dishonor,  of  the  faith.^  The  historians  of  Christianity 
were  credulous,  but  of  that  which  it  would  have  been 
considered  impiety  to  disbelieve,  even  if  they  had  the 
inclination. 

The  larger  part  of  Christian  literature  consists  in 
controversial  writings,  valuable  to  posterity  as  records 
of  the  progress  of  the  human  mind,  and  of  the  gradual 
development  of  Christian  opinions,  —  at  times  worthy 
of  admiration  for  the  force,  the  copiousness,  and  the 
subtlety  of  argument;  but  too  often  repulsive  from 
their  solemn  prolixity  on  insignificant  subjects,  and, 
above  all,  the  fierce,  the  unjust,  and  the  acrimonious 

1  "  In  addition  to  these  things  (the  appointment  of  rude  and  unfit  persons 
to  episcopal  offices,  and  other  delinquencies),  the  ambition  of  many;  the  pre- 
cipitate and  illegitimate  ordinations ;  the  dissensions  among  the  confessors ; 
whatever  the  younger  and  more  seditious  so  pertinaciously  attempted  against 
the  remains  of  the  Chui'ch,  introducing  innovation  after  innovation,  and  un- 
sparingly, in  the  midst  of  the  calamities  of  the  persecution,  adding  new 
afflictions,  and  heaping  evil  upon  evil,  —  all  these  things  I  think  it  right  to 
pass  over,  as  mibefitting  my  history,  which,  as  I  stated  m  the  beginning, 
declines  and  avoids  the  relation  of  such  things.  But  whatsoever  things, 
according  to  the  Sacred  Scripture,  are  '  honest  and  of  good  report : '  if  there 
be  any  virtue,  and  if  there  be  any  praise,  these  things  I  have  thought  it  most 
befitting  the  history  of  these  wonderful  martyrs,  to  speak  and  to  write  and  to 
address  to  the  ears  of  the  faithful."  On  this  passage,  De  Martyr.  Palaest. 
cxii.,  and  that  to  which  it  alludes,  E.  H.  viii.  2,  the  honesty  and  impartiality 
of  Eusebius,  which  were  not  above  suspicion  in  his  own  day  (Tillemont, 
M.  E.  torn.  i.  part  i.  p.  67),  have  been  severely  questioned.  Gibbon's  obser- 
vations on  the  subject  gave  rise  to  many  dissertations.  Miiller,  De  Fide 
Euseb.  Caes.  Havniae,  1813.  Danzius,  De  Euseb.  Caes.  H.  E.  Scriptore,  ejus- 
que  Fide  Historica  rect6  aestimanda.  Jense,  1815.  Kestner,  Comment,  de 
Euseb.  H.  E.  Conditoris  Auctoritate  et  Fide.  See  also  Reuterdahl,  De  Fon- 
tibus  H.  E.  Eusebianae.  Lond.  Goth.  1826,  and  various  passages  in  the  Ex- 
cursus of  Heinichen.  In  many  passages,  it  is  clear  that  Eusebius  did  not 
adliere  to  his  own  rule  of  partiality.  His  Ecclesiastical  History,  though  prob- 
ably highly  colored  in  many  parts,  is  by  no  means  an  unifonn  panegyric  on 
the  early  Christians.  Strict  impartiality  could  not  be  expected  from  a  Chris- 
tian writer  of  that  day;  and  probably  Eusebius  erred  more  often  from  credu- 
lity than  from  dishonesty.  Yet  the  unbelief  produced,  in  later  times,  by  the 
fictitious  character  of  early  Christian  History,  may  show  how  dangerous, 
how  fatal,  may  be  the  least  departure  from  truth.  On  pious  fraud,  read  Moa- 
heim.  Diss.  i.  206,  et  seqq. 


Chap.  m.  APOLOGIES.  367 

spirit  with  which  they  treat  their  adversaries.  The 
Christian  Kterature  in  prose  (exchiding  the  history  and 
hagiography)  may  be  distributed  under  five  heads: 
I.  Apologies,  or  defences  of  the  faith,  against  Jewish, 
or  more  frequently  Heathen  adversaries.  II.  Her- 
meneutics,  or  commentaries  on  the  sacred  writings. 
III.  Expositions  of  the  principles  and  doctrines  of 
the  faith.  IV.  Polemical  works  against  the  different 
sects  and  heresies.     Y.  Orations. 

I.  I  have  already  traced  the  manner  in  which  the 
apology  for  Christianity,  from  humbly  defen- 

,  -1  -mi         Apologies. 

sive,  became  vigorously  aggressive.  The 
calm  appeal  to  justice  and  humanity,  the  earnest 
deprecation  of  the  odious  calumnies  with  which  the 
Christians  were  charged,  the  plea  for  toleration,  gradu- 
ally rise  to  th^  vehement  and  uncompromising  pro- 
scription of  the  folly  and  guilt  of  idolatry.  TertuUian 
marks,  as  it  were,  the  period  of  transition ;  though 
his  fiery  temper  may  perhaps  have  anticipated  the  time 
when  Christianity,  in  the  consciousness  of  strength, 
instead  of  endeavoring  to  appease  or  avert  the  wrath 
of  hostile  Paganism,  might  defy  it  to  deadly  strife. 
The  earliest  extant  apology,  that  of  Justin  Martyr,  is 
by  no  means  severe  in  argument  or  vigorous  in  style, 
and  though  not  altogether  abstaining  from  recrimina- 
tion, is  still  rather  humble  and  deprecatory  in  its  tone. 
The  short  apologetic  orations  —  as  the  Christians  had 
to  encounter  not  merely  the  general  hostility  of  the 
Government  or  the  people,  but  direct  and  argumenta- 
tive treatises,  written  against  them  by  the  philosophic 
party  —  gradually  swelled  into  books.  The  first  of 
these  is  perhaps  the  best,  —  that  of  Origen  against 
Celsus.  The  intellect  of  Origen,  notwithstanding 
its  occasional  fantastic   aberrations,  appears  to  me 


368  HERMENEUTICS.  Book  IV. 

more  suited  to  grapple  with  this  lofty  argument  than 
the  diffuse  and  excursive  Eusebius,  whose  Evangelic 
Preparation  and  Demonstration  heaped  together  vast 
masses  of  curious  but  by  no  means  convincing  learn- 
ing; and  the  feebler,  more  violent,  and  less  candid 
Cyril  of  Alexandria,  in  his  Books  against  Julian.  I 
have  already  noticed  the  great  work  which  perhaps 
might  be  best  arranged  under  this  head,  the  "  City  of 
God"  of  St.  Augustine;  but  there  was  one  short 
treatise  which  may  vindicate  the  Christian  Latin 
literature  from  the  charge  of  barbarism ;  perhaps  no 
late  work,  either  Pagan  or  Christian,  reminds  us  of  the 
golden  days  of  Latin  prose  so  much  as  the  Octavius 
of  Minucius  Felix. 

II.  The  Hermeneutics,  or  the  interpretation  of  the 
Hermeneu-  sacrcd  wHtcrs,  might  be  expected  to  have 
tics.  more  real  value  and  authority  than  can  be 

awarded  them  by  sober  and  dispassionate  judgment. 
But  it  cannot  be  denied,  that  almost  all  these  writers, 
including  those  of  highest  name,  are  fanciful  in  their 
inferences,  discover  mysteries  in  the  plainest  sentences, 
wander  away  from  the  clear  historical,  moral,  or  reli- 
gious meaning,  into  a  long  train  of  corollaries,  at  which 
we  arrive  we  know  not  how.  Piety,  in  fact,  read  in 
the  Scripture  whatever  it  chose  to  read ;  and  the 
devotional  feeling  it  excited  was  at  once  the  end  and 
the  test  of  the  biblical  commentary.  But  the  character 
of  the  age  and  the  school  in  which  the  Christian 
teachers  were  trained,  must  here,  as  in  other  cases,  be 
taken  into  account.  The  more  sober  Jewish  system 
of  interpretation  (setting  aside  the  wild  cabalistic 
notions  of  the  significance  of  letters,  the  frequency  of 
their  recurrence,  their  collocation,  and  all  those  strange 
theories  which  were  engendered  by  a  servile  veneration 


Chap.  III.  POLEMICAL  WRITINGS.  369 

of  the  very  form  and  language  of  the  sacred  writings) 
allowed  itself  at  least  an  equal  latitude  of  authoritative 
inference.  The  Platonists  spun  out  the  thoughts  or 
axioms  of  their  master  into  as  fine  and  subtle  a  web 
of  mystic  speculation.  The  general  principle  of  an 
esoteric  or  recondite  meaning  in  all  works  which 
commanded  veneration,  was  universally  received:  it 
was  this  principle  upon  which  the  Gnostic  sects  formed 
all  their  vague  and  mystic  theories ;  and,  if  in  this 
respect  the  Christian  teachers  did  not  bind  themselves 
by  much  severer  rules  of  reasoning  than  prevailed 
around  them  on  all  sides,  they  may  have  been 
actuated  partly  by  some  jealousy,  lest  their  own 
plainer  and  simpler  sacred  writings  should  appear  dry 
and  barren,  in  comparison  with  the  rich  and  imagina- 
tive freedom  of  their  adversaries. 

III.  The  expositions  of  faith  and  practice  may  con- 
prehend  all  the  smaller  treatises  on  particular  Expositions 
duties,  —  prayer,  almsgiving,  marriage,  and  off'"**^- 
celibacy.     They  depend,  of  course,  for  their  merit  and 
authority  on  the  character  of  the  writer. 

TV.  Christianity  might  appear,  if  we  judge  by  the 
proportion  which  the    controversial  writings  poj^ujicai 
bear  to  the  rest  of  Christian  literature,  to  ^i""-"- 
have  introduced  an  element  of  violent  and  implacable 
discord.    Nor  does  the  tone  of  these  polemical  writings, 
by  which  alone  we  can  judge  of  the  ancient  heresies,  of 
which  the  heretics'  own  accounts  have  almost  entirely 
perished,  impress  us  very  favorably  with  their  fairness 
or  candor.     But  it  must  be  remembered,  that,  after  all, 
the  field  of  literature  was  not  the  arena  in  which  the 
great  contest  between  Christianity  and  the  world  was 
waged :   it  was  in  the  private  circle  of  each  separate 
congregation,  which  was  constantly  but  silently  en 
VOL.  III.  24 


370  CHRISTIAN   ORATORY.  Book  IV. 

larging  its  boundaries  ;  it  was  the  immediate  contact  of 
mind  with  mind,  the  direct  influence  of  the  Christian 
clergy  and  even  the  more  pious  of  the  laity,  which 
were  tranquilly  and  noiselessly  pursuing  their  course 
of  conversion.^ 

These  treatises,  however,  were  principally  addressed 
to  the  clergy,  and  through  them  worked  downward 
into  the  mass  of  the  Christian  people :  even  with  the 
more  rapid  and  frequent  communication  which  took 
place  in  the  Christian  world,  they  were  but  partially 
and  imperfectly  disseminated ;  but  that  which  became 
another  considerable  and  important  part  of  their  litera- 
ture, their  oratory,  had  in  the  first  instance  been 
directly  addressed  to  the  popular  mind,  and  formed 
the  chief  part  of  the  popular  instruction.  Christian 
preaching  had  opened  a  new  fi?eld  for  eloquence. 

V.  Oratory,  that  oratory  at  least  which  communicates 
Christian  ^^^  ^^^^^^  impulscs  and  passions  to  the  heart, 
oratory.  wliicli  uot  merely  persuades  tlie  reason,  but 
sways  the  whole  soul  of  man,  had  suffered  a  long  and 
total  silence.  It  had  everywhere  expired  with  the 
republican  institutions.  The  discussions  in  the  senate 
had  been  controlled  by  the  imperial  presence ;  and 
even  if  the  Roman  senators  had  asserted  the  fullest 
freedom  of  speech,  and  allowed  themselves  the  most 
exciting  fervor  of  language,  this  was  but  one  assembly 

1  I  might  perhaps  have  made  another  and  a  very  interesting  branch  of 
the  prose  Christian  literature,  —  the  epistolary.  The  letters  of  the  great  writ- 
ers form  one  of  the  most  valuable  parts  of  their  works.  The  Latin  Fathers, 
however,  maintain  that  superiority  over  the  Greek,  which  in  classical  times 
is  asserted  by  Cicero  and  Pliny.  The  letters  of  Cyprian  and  Ambrose  are  of 
the  highest  interest  as  historical  documents;  those  of  Jerome,  for  manners; 
those  of  Augustine,  perhaps,  for  style.  They  far  surpass  those  of  Chrysos- 
tom,  which  we  must,  however,  recollect  were  written  from  his  drear}-^  and 
monotonous  place  of  exile.  Yet  Chrysostom's  are  superior  to  that  dullest  of 
al]  collections, — the  huge  folio  of  the  letters  of  Libanius. 


Chap.  III.  CHRISTIAN  ORATORY.  371 

in  a  single  city,  formed  out  of  a  confined  aristocracy. 
The  municipal  assemblies  were  alike  rebuked  by  tlie 
awe  of  a  presiding  master,  the  provincial  governor,  and 
of  course  aiforded  a  less  open  field  for  stirring  and 
general  eloquence.  The  perfection  of  jurisprudence 
had  probably  been  equally  fatal  to  judicial  oratory ; 
we  hear  of  great  lawyers,  but  not  of  distinguished 
advocates.  The  highest  flight  of  Pagan  oratory  which 
remains  is  in  the  adulatory  panegyrics  of  the  emperors, 
pronounced  by  rival  candidates  for  favor.  Rhetoric 
was  taught,  indeed,  and  practised  as  a  liberal,  but  it 
had  sunk  into  a  mere,  art :  it  was  taught  by  salaried 
professors  in  all  the  great  towns  to  the  higher  youth  ; 
but  they  were  mere  exercises  of  fluent  diction,  on  trite 
or  obsolete  subjects,  the  characters  of  the  heroes  of 
the  Iliad,  or  some  subtle  question  of  morality.^ 

It  is  impossible  to  conceive  a  more  sudden  and  total 
change  than  from  the  school  of  the  rhetorician  to  a 
crowded  Christian  church.  The  orator  suddenly 
emerged  from  a  listless  audience  of  brother  scholars, 
before  whom  he  had  discussed  some  one  of  those 
trivial  questions  according  to  formal  rules,  and  whose 
ear  could  require  no  more  than  terseness  or  elegance 
of  diction,  and  a  just  distribution  of  the  argument: 
emotion  was  neither  expected  nor  could  be  excited. 
He  found  himself  among  a  breathless  and  anxious 
multitude,  whose  eternal  destiny  might  seem  to  hang 
on  his  lips,  catching  up  and  treasuring  his  words  as 
those  of  divine  inspiration,  and  interrupting  his  more 
eloquent  passages  by  almost  involuntary  acclamations.^ 

1  The  declamations  of  Quintilian  are  no  doubt  favorable  specimens  both 
of  the  subjects  and  the  style  of  these  orators. 

2  These  acclamations  sometimes  rewarded  the  more  eloquent  and  success- 
ftd  teachers  of  rhetoric.  Themistius  speaks  of  the  kKJiorjaELg  re  koI  Kporovg, 
olcjv  ^afca  dizohivovat  izap'  vfiuv  ol  daifLovioL'  ao(pLaTai.  —  Basanistes,  p.  236, 


372  CHEISTIAN  ORATORY.  Book  IV. 

The  orator  in  the  best  days  of  Athens,  the  tribune  in 
the  most  turbulent  periods  of  Rome,  had  not  such 
complete  hold  upon  the  minds  of  his  hearers ;  and 
—  but  that  the  sublime  nature  of  his  subject  usually 
lay  above  the  sphere  of  immediate  action,  but  that, 
the  purer  and  loftier  its  tone,  if  it  found  instantaneous 
sympathy,  yet  it  also  met  the  constant  inert  resistance 
of  prejudice  and  ignorance  and  vice  to  its  authority  — 
the  power  with  which  this  privilege  of  oratory  would 
have  invested  the  clergy  would  have  been  far  greater 
than  that  of  any  of  the  former  political  or  sacerdotal 
dominations.  Wherever  the  oratory  of  the  pulpit 
coincided  with  human  passion,  it  was  irresistible ; 
and  sometimes,  when  it  resolutely  encountered  it, 
it  might  extort  an  unwilling  triumph.  When  it 
appealed  to  faction,  to  ferocity,  to  sectarian  animosity, 
it  swept  away  its  audience  like  a  torrent,  to  any 
violence  or  madness  at  which  it  aimed;  when  to 
virtue,  to  piety,  to  peace,  it  at  times  subdued  the 
most  refractory,  and  received  the  homage  of  devout 
obedience. 

The  bishop  in  general,  at  least  when  the  hierarchical 
power  became  more  dominant,  reserved  for  himself 
an  office  so  productive  of  influence  and  so  liable  to 
abuse. ^     But  men  like  Athanasius  or  Augustine  were 

edit.  Deindoif.  Compare  the  note.  Chrysostom's  works  are  full  of  allusions 
to  these  acclamations. 

1  The  laity  were  long  permitted  to  address  the  people  in  the  absence  of 
the  clergy.  It  was  objected  to  the  Bishop  Demetrius,  that  he  had  permitted 
an  imprecedented  innovation  in  the  case  of  Origen :  he  had  allowed  a  lay- 
man to  teach  when  the  bishop  teas  present.  —  Eiiseb.,  E.  H.  vi.  19.  'O  SiSaa- 
KO)v,  el  Kal  2.acKbg  ^,  e/xneipog  6e  rov  2,6yov,  kol  tov  rpoizov  aeiivbg,  Stdao- 
KSTU.  —  Constit.  Apost.  viii.  32,  23.  "  Laicus,  prsesentibus  clericis,  nisi  illis 
jubentibus,  docere  non  audeat."  —  Cone.  Carth.  can.  98.  Jerome  might  be 
supposed,  in  his  indignant  remonstrance  against  the  right  which  almost  all 
assumed  of  interpreting  the  Scriptures,  to  be  writing  of  later  days.  "  Quod 
medicorum  est,  promittunt  medici,  tractant  fabrilia  fabri.    Sola  Scripturarum 


Chap.  III.  CHRISTIAN  ORATORY.  373 

not  compelled  to  wait  for  that  qualification  of  rank. 
They  received  the  ready  permission  of  the  bishop  to 
exercise  at  once  this  important  function.  In  general, 
a  promising  orator  would  rarely  want  opportunity  of 
distinction;  and  he  who  had  obtained  celebrity  would 
frequently  be  raised  by  general  acclamation,  or  by 
a  just  appreciation  of  his  usefulness  by  the  higher 
clergy,  to  an  episcopal  throne.^ 

But  it  is  difficult  to  conceive  the  general  effect 
produced  by  this  devotion  of  oratory  to  its  new  office. 
From  this  time,  instead  of  seizing  casual  opportunities 
of  working  on  the  mind  and  heart  of  man,  it  was 
constantly,  regularly,  in  every  part  of  the  empire,  with 
more  or  less  energy,  with  greater  or  less  commanding 
authority,  urging  the  doctrines  of  Christianity  on  awe- 
struck and  submissive  hearers.  It  had,  of  course,  as 
it  always  has  had,  its  periods  of  more  than  usual  ex- 
citement, its  sudden  paroxysms  of  power,  by  which  it 
convulsed  some  part  of  society.  The  constancy  and 
regularity  with  which,  in  the  ordinary  course  of  things, 
it  discharged  its  function,  may  in  some  degree  have 
deadened  its  influence ;  and,  in  the  period  of  igno- 
rance and  barbarism,  the  instruction  was  chiefly 
through  the  ceremonial,  the  symbolic  worship,  the 
painting,  and  even  the  dramatic  representation. 

Still,  this  new  moral  power,  though  intermitted  at 
times,  and  even  suspended,  was  almost  continually 
operating,  in  its  great  and  sustained  energy,  through- 

ars  est,  quam  sibi  omnes  passim  vindicant.  Scribimus,  inclocti  doctique  poe- 
mata  passim.  Hanc  garrula  anus,  banc  delirus  senex,  banc  sopbista  verbo- 
sus,  hanc  universi  prgesumunt,  lacerant,  docent  antequam  discant.  Alii  addicto 
supercilio,  grandia  verba  trutinantes,  inter  mulierculas  de  sacris  literis  pbi- 
losophantur.  Alii  discunt,  proh  pudor !  a  feminis,  quod  viros  doceant :  et  ne 
parum  boc  sit  quadam  facilitate  verborum,  imo  audacia,  edissermit  aliis  quod 
ipsi  non  intelligunt."  — Epist.  1.  ad  Paulinum,  vol.  iv.  p.  571. 
1  But  compare  Latin  Christianity.    Pope  Leo  L,  vol.  i.  p.  168. 


374  CHRISTIAN  ORATORY.  Book  IV. 

out  the  Christian  world;  though  of  course  strongly 
tempered  with  the  dominant  spirit  of  Christianity ; 
and,  excepting  in  those  periods  either  ripe  for  or  pre- 
paring some  great  change  in  religious  sentiment  or 
opinion,  the  living  and  general  expression  of  the  prev- 
alent Christianity,  it  was  always  in  greater  or  less 
activity,  instilling  the  broader  principles  of  Christian 
faith  and  morals :  if  superstitious,  rarely  altogether 
silent ;  if  appealing  to  passions  which  ought  to  have 
been  rebuked  before  its  voice,  and  exciting  those  feel- 
ings of  hostility  between  conflicting  sects  which  it 
should  have  allayed,  —  yet  even  then  in  some  hearts 
its  gentler  and  more  Christian  tones  made  a  profound 
and  salutary  impression,  while  its  more  violent  lan- 
guage fell  off  without  mingling  with  the  uncongenial 
feelings.  The  great  principles  of  the  religion  —  the 
providence  of  God,  the  redemption  by  Christ,  the  im- 
mortality of  the  soul,  future  retribution  —  gleamed 
through  all  the  fantastic  and  legendary  lore  with  which 
the  faith  was  encumbered  and  obscured  in  the  darker 
ages.  Christianity  first  imposed  it  as  a  duty  on  one 
class  of  men  to  be  constantly  enforcing  moral  and 
religious  truths  on  all  mankind.  Though  that  duty, 
of  course,  was  discharged  with  very  different  energy, 
judgment,  and  success,  at  different  periods,  it  was 
always  a  strong  counteracting  power,  an  authorized, 
and  in  general  respected,  remonstrance  against  the 
vices  and  misery  of  mankind.  Man  was  perpetually 
reminded,  that  he  was  an  immortal  being  under  the 
protection  of  a  wise  and  all-ruling  providence,  and 
destined  for  a  higher  state  of  existence. 

Nor  was  this  influence  only  immediate  and  tem- 
porary :  Christian  oratory  did  not  cease  to  speak  when 
its  echoes  had  died  away  upon  the  ear,  and  its  ex- 


Chap.  III.  CHEISTIAN  ORATORY.  875 

pressions  faded  from  the  hearts  of  those  to  whom  it 
was  addressed.  The  orations  of  the  Basils  and  Chry- 
sostoms,  the  Ambroses  and  Augustines,  became  one 
of  the  most  important  parts  of  Christian  literature. 
That  eloquence  which,  in  Rome  and  Greece,  had  been 
confined  to  civil  and  judicial  aflfairs,  was  now  insepa- 
rably connected  with  religion.  The  oratory  of  the 
pulpit  took  its  place  with  that  of  the  bar,  the  comitia, 
or  the  senate,  as  the  historical  record  of  that  which 
once  had  powerfully  moved  the  minds  of  multitudes. 
No  part  of  Christian  literature  so  vividly  reflects  the 
times,  the  tone  of  religious  doctrine  or  sentiment,  in 
inany  cases  the  manners,  habits,  and  character  of  the 
period,  as  the  sermons  of  the  leading  teachers. 


376  FINE  ARTS.  Book  IV. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

Christianity  and  the  Fine  Arts. 

As  in  literature,  so  in  the  fine  arts,  Christianity  had  to 
await  that  period  in  which  it  should  become 

Fine  arts.  i         ■,       •  •   i        i         ^     t  j 

completely  interwoven  with  the  leeiiiigs  and 
moral  being  of  mankind,  before  it  could  put  forth  all 
its  creative  energies,  and  kindle  into  active  productive- 
ness those  new  principles  of  the  noble  and  the  beauti- 
ful which  it  infused  into  the  human  imagination.  The 
dawn  of  a  new  civilization  must  be  the  first  epoch  for 
the  full  development  of  Christian  art.  The  total  dis- 
organization of  society,  which  was  about  to  take  place, 
implied  the  total  suspension  of  the  arts  which  embel- 
lish social  life.  The  objects  of  admiration  were  swept 
away  by  the  destructive  ravages  of  Barbarian  warfare ; 
or,  where  they  were  left  in  contemptuous  indifference, 
the  mind  had  neither  leisure  to  indulge,  nor  refine- 
ment enough  to  feel,  that  admiration  which  belongs  to 
a  more  secure  state  of  society,  and  of  repose  from  the 
more  pressing  toils  and  anxieties  of  life. 

This  suspended  animation  of  the  fine  arts  was  of 
course  different  in  degree  in  the  various  parts  of 
Europe,  in  proportion  as  they  were  exposed  to  the  rav- 
ages of  war,  the  comparative  barbarism  of  the  tribes 
by  which  they  were  overrun,  the  station  held  by  the 
clergy,  the  security  which  they  could  command  by 
the  sanctity  of  their  character,  and  their  disposable 
wealth.     At  every  period,  from  Theodoric,  who  dwelt 


CHAi.rV.  FINE  ARTS.  377 

with  vain  fondness  on  the  last  struggles  of  decaying 
art,  to  Charlemagne,  who  seemed  to  hail,  with  pro- 
phetic taste,  the  hope  of  its  revival,  there  is  no  period 
in  which  the  tradition  of  art  was  not  preserved  in 
some  part  of  Europe,  though  obscured  by  ignorance, 
barbarism,  and  that  still  worse  enemy,  if  possible, 
false  and  meretricious  taste.  Christianity,  in  every 
branch  of  the  arts,  preserved  something  from  the  gen- 
eral wreck,  and  brooded  in  silence  over  the  imperfect 
rudiments  of  each,  of  which  it  was  the  sole  conserva- 
tor. The  mere  mechanical  skill  of  working  stone,  of 
delineating  the  human  face,  and  of  laying  on  colors  so 
as  to  produce  something  like  illusion,  was  constantly 
exercised  in  the  works  which  religion  required  to 
awaken  the  torpid  emotions  of  an  ignorant  and  super- 
stitious people.^ 

In  all  the  arts,  Christianity  was  at  first,  of  course, 
purely  imitative,  and  imitative  of  the  prevalent  degene- 
rate style.  It  had  not  yet  felt  its  strength,  and  dared 
not  develop,  or  dreamed  not  of  those  latent  principles 
which  lay  beneath  its  religion,  and  which  hereafter 
were  to  produce  works,  in  its  own  style,  and  its  own 
aepartment,  rivalling  all  the  wonders  of  antiquity  ; 
when  the  extraordinary  creations  of  its  proper  archi- 
tecture were  to  arise,  far  surpassing  in  the  skill  of 
their  construction,  in  their  magnitude  more  than 
equalling  those  wonders,  and  in  their  opposite  indeed, 
but  not  less  majestic,  style,  vindicating  the  genius  of 
Christianity ;  when  Italy  was  to  transcend  ancient 
Greece  in  painting  as  much  as  the  whole  modern 
world  is  inferior  to  Greece  in  the  rival  art  of  sculpture. 

I.  Architecture  was  the  first  of  these  arts  which  was 

1  The  Iconoclasts  had  probably  more  influence  in  barbarizing  the  East  than 
the  Barbarians  themselves  in  the  West. 


378  ARCHITECTURE.  Book  IV. 

summoned  to  the  service  of  Christianity.     The  devo- 
tion of  the  earlier  ages  did  not  need,  and  could 

Architecture.  i      i  •  ,     .  t  . 

not  command,  this  subsidiary  to  pious  emotion, 
—  it  imparted  sanctity  to  the  meanest  building;  now 
it  would  not  be  content  without  enshrining  its  tri- 
umphant worship  in  a  loftier  edifice.  Religion  at 
once  offered  this  proof  of  its  sincerity  by  the  sacrifice 
of  wealth  to  this  hallowed  purpose :  and  the  increas- 
ing splendor  of  the  religious  edifices  re-acted  upon  the 
general  devotion,  by  the  feelings  of  awe  and  veneration 
which  they  inspired.  Splendor,  however,  did  not  dis- 
dain to  be  subservient  to  use ;  and  the  arrangements 
of  the  new  buildings,  which  arose  in  all  quarters,  or 
were  diverted  to  this  new  object,  accomodated  them- 
selves to  the  Christian  ceremonial.  In  the  East,  I 
have  already  shown,  in  the  church  of  Tyre,  described 
by  Eusebius,  the  ancient  temple  lending  its  model  to 
the  Christian  church ;  and  the  basilica,  in  the  West, 
adapted  with  still  greater  ease  and  propriety  for  Chris- 
tian worship.^  There  were  many  distinctive  points 
which  materially  affected  the  style  of  Christian  archi- 
tecture. The  simplicity  of  the  Grecian  temple,  as  it 
has  been  shown  ,2  harmonized  perfectly  only  with  its 
own  form  of  worship :  it  was  more  of  a  public  place, 
sometimes,  indeed,  hypaethral,  or  open  to  the  air.  The 
Christian  worship  demanded  more  complete  enclosure  ; 
the  church  was  more  of  a  chamber,  in  which  the  voice 
of  an  individual  could  be  distinctly  heard;  and  the 
whole  assembly  of  worshippers,  sheltered  from  the 
change  or  inclemency  of  the  weather,  or  the  intrusion 
of  unauthorized  persons,  might  listen  in  undisturbed 
devotion  to  the  prayer,  the  reading  of  the  Scripture,  or 
the  preacher. 

1  Vol.  ii.  pp.  242-244.  2  Vol.  ii.  pp.  344,  «48 


Chap.  IV.  WINDOWS.  379 

One  consequence  of  this  was  the  necessity  of  regular 
apertures  for  the  admission  of  light ;  ^  and 

,  •       1       1  T      T        n  n  Windows. 

these  imperatively  demanded  a  departure  irom 
the  plan  of  temple  architecture. 

Windows  had  been  equally  necessary  in  the  basilicse 
for  the  public  legal  proceedings  ;  the  reading  legal 
documents  required  a  bright  and  full  light ;  and  in  the 
basilicge  the  windows  were  numerous  and  large.  The 
nave,  probably  from  the  earliest  period,  was  lighted  by 
clerestory  windows,  which  were  above  the  roof  of  the 
lower  aisles.^ 

Throughout  the  West,  the  practice  of  converting 
the  basilica  into  the  church  continued  to  a  late  period. 
The  very  name  seemed  appropriate  :  the  royal  hall  was 
changed  into  a  dwelling  for  the  GREAT  KING.^ 

1  In  the  fanciful  comparison  (in  H.  E.  x.  4)  which  Eusebius  draws  between 
the  diflferent  parts  of  the  church  and  the  different  gradations  of  catechumens, 
he  speaks  of  the  most  perfect  as  "  shone  on  by  the  light  througli  the  win- 
dows,"—  TOVQ  61  rrpog  to  (pug  uvoiyfiaci  Karavyu^ec.  He  seems  to  describe 
the  temple  as  full  of  light,  emblematical  of  the  heavenly  light  diff\ised  by 
Christ,  —  2xi[nTpdv  koI  (purbg  EfiKXeo)  to,  re  evSodev  koI  tu.  sKTog ;  but  it  is 
not  easy  to  discover  where  his  metaphor  ends  and  his  fact  begins.  See 
Ciampini,  vol.  i.  p.  74. 

2  The  size  of  the  windows  has  been  disputed  by  Christian  antiquaries : 
some  asserted  that  the  early  Christians,  accustomed  to  the  obscurity  of  their 
ciypts  and  catacombs,  preferred  naiTow  apertures  for  light;  others,  that  the 
services,  especially  reading  the  Scriptures,  required  it  to  be  both  bright  and 
equally  diffused.  Ciampini,  as  an  Italian,  prefers  the  latter,  and  sarcastically 
alludes  to  the  naiTow  windows  of  Gothic  architecture,  introduced  by  the 
"Vandals,"  Avhose  first  object  being  to  exclude  the  cold  of  their  northern 
climate,  they  contracted  the  windows  to  the  narrowest  dimensions  possible. 
In  the  monastic  churches,  the  light  was  excluded,  "  quia  monachis  meditanti- 
bus  fortasse  officiebat,  quominiis  possent  intento  animo  soli  Deo  vacare."  — 
Ciampini,  Vetera  Monumenta.  This  author  considers  that  the  parochial  or 
cathedral  churches  may,  in  general,  be  distinguished  from  the  monastic  by 
this  test. 

3  "  Basilicae  priiis  vocabantur  regum  habitacula,  nunc  autem  ideo  basilicae 
divina  templa  nominantur,  quia  ibi  Regi  omnium  Deo  cultus  et  sacrificia 
offferuntur."  —  Isidor.  Orig.  lib.  v.  "  Basilicae  olim  negotiis  psene,  nunc  votis 
pro  tua  sal-ute  susceptis."  —  Auson.  Grat.  Act.  pro  Consul. 


380  SUBDIVISIONS  OF  THE  BUILDING.  Book  IV. 

The  more  minute  subdivision  of  the  internal  ar- 
subdivision  raugemeut  contributed  to  form  the  peculiar 
building.  character  of  Christian  architecture.  The 
different  orders  of  Christians  were  distributed  accord- 
ing to  their  respective  degrees  of  proficiency.  But, 
besides  this,  the  church  had  inherited  from  the  syna- 
gogue, and  from  the  general  feeling  of  the  East,  the 
principle  of  secluding  the  female  part  of  the  worship- 
pers. Enclosed  galleries,  on  a  higher  level,  were 
probably  common  in  the  synagogues ;  and  this  ar- 
rangement appears  to  have  been  generally  adopted  in 
the  earlier  Christian  churches.^ 

This  great  internal  complexity  necessarily  led  to  still 
farther  departure  from  the  simplicity  of  design  in  the 
exterior  plan  and  elevation.  The  single  or  the  double 
row  of  columns,  reaching  from  the  top  to  the  bottom 
of  the  building,  with  the  long  and  unbroken  horizontal 
line  of  the  roof  reposing  upon  it,  would  give  place  to 
rows  of  unequal  heights,  or  to  the  division  into  separate 
stories. 

The  same  process  had  probably  taken  place  in  the 
palatial  architecture  of  Rome.  Instead  of  one  order 
of  columns,  which  reached  from  the  top  to  the  bottom 
of  the  buildings,  rows  of  columns,  one  above  the  other, 
marked  the  different  stories  into  which  the  building 
was  divided. 

Christianity  thus,  from  the  first,  either  at  once  as- 
sumed, or  betrayed  its  tendency  to,  its  peculiar  charac- 
ter. Its  harmony  was  not  that  of  the  Greek,  arising 
from  the  breadth  and  simplicity  of  one  design,  which, 
if  at  times  too  vast  for  the  eye  to  contemplate  at  a 
single  glance,  was  comprehended  and  felt  at  once  by 

1  "  Populi  confluunt  ad  ecclesias  casta  celebritate,  honesta  utriusque  sexfia 
discretione."  —  Augustin.  de  Civ.  Dei,  ii.  28.     Compare  Bingham,  viii.  5,  5. 


Chap.  IV.  ARCHITECTURE.  381 

the  mind ;  of  which  the  lines  were  all  horizontal  and 
regular,  and  the  general  impression  a  majestic  or 
graceful  uniformity,  either  awful  from  its  massiveness 
or  solidity,  or  pleasing  from  its  lightness  and  delicate 
proportion. 

The  harmony  of  the  Christian  building  (if  in  fact  it 
attained,  before  its  perfection  in  the  mediseval  G-othic, 
to  that  first  principle  of  architecture)  consisted  in  the 
combination  of  many  separate  parts,  duly  balanced  into 
one  whole ;  the  subordination  of  tiie  accessories  to  the 
principal  object ;  the  multiplication  of  distinct  objects 
coalescing  into  one  rich  and  effective  mass,  and  per- 
vaded and  reduced  to  a  kind  of  symmetry  by  one  gen- 
eral character  in  the  various  lines  and  in  the  style  of 
ornament. 

This  predominance  of  complexity  over  simplicity,  of 
variety  over  symmetry,  was  no  doubt  greatly  increased 
by  the  buildings  which,  from  an  early  period,  arose 
around  the  central  church,  especially  in  all  the  monas- 
tic institutions.  The  baptistery  was  often  a  separate 
building;  and  frequently,  in  the  ordinary  structures 
for  worship,  dwellings  for  the  officiating  priesthood 
were  attached  to,  or  adjacent  to,  the  church.  The 
Grecian  temple  appears  often  to  have  stood  alone,  on 
the  brow  of  a  hill,  in  a  grove,  or  in  some  other  com- 
manding or  secluded  situation.  In  Rome,  many  of 
the  pontifical  offices  were  held  by  patricians,  who  oc- 
cupied their  own  palaces ;  but  the  Eastern  temples 
were  in  general  surrounded  by  spacious  courts,  and 
with  buildings  for  the  residence  of  the  sacerdotal  col- 
leges. If  these  were  not  the  models  of  the  Christian 
establishments,  the  same  ecclesiastical  arrangements, 
the  institution  of  a  numerous  and  wealthy  priestly 
order  attached  to  the  churches,  demanded  the  same 


382  SCULPTURE.  Book  IV. 

accommodation.  Thus  a  multitude  of  subordinate  build- 
ings would  crowd  around  the  central  or  more  eminent 
house  of  God.  _  At  first,  where  mere  convenience  was 
considered,  and  where  the  mind  had  not  awakened  to 
the  solemn  impressions  excited  by  vast  and  various 
architectural  works,  combined  by  a  congenial  style  of 
building,  and  harmonized  by  skilful  arrangement  and 
subordination,  they  would  be  piled  together  irregularly 
and  capriciously,  obscuring  that  wliich  was  really 
grand,  and  displaying  irreverent  confusion  rather  than 
stately  order.  Gradually,  as  the  sense  of  grandeur 
and  solemnity  dawned  upon  the  mind,  there  would 
arise  the  desire  of  producing  one  general  effect  and 
impression  ;  but  this,  no  doubt,  was  the  later  develop- 
ment of  a  principle  which,  if  at  first  dimly  perceived, 
was  by  no  means  rigidly  or  consistently  followed  out. 
We  must  wait  many  centuries  before  we  reach  the  cul- 
minating period  of  genuine  Christian  architecture. 

II.  Sculpture  alone,  of  the  fine  arts,  has  been  faithful 
to  its  parent  Paganism.  It  has  never  cor- 
scuipture.  ^|^^|y  imbibod  the  spirit  of  Christianity.  The 
second  creative  epoch  (how  poor  comparatively,  in  fer- 
tility and  originality  1)  was  contemporary  and  closely 
connected  with  the  revival  of  classical  literature  in 
Europe.  It  has  lent  itself  to  Christian  sentiment 
chiefly  in  two  forms  ;  as  necessary  and  subordinate  to 
architecture,  and  as  monumental  sculpture. 

Christianity  was  by  no  means  so  intolerant,  at  least 
after  its  first  period,  of  the  remains  of  ancient  sculp- 
ture, or  so  perseveringly  hostile  to  the  art,  as  might 
have  been  expected  from  its  severe  aversion  to  idolatry. 
The  earlier  fathers,  indeed,  condemn  the  arts  of  sculp- 
ture and  of  painting  as  inseparably  connected  with 
Paganism.     Every  art  which  frames  au  image  is  irre- 


Chap.  IV.  SCULPTUEE.  383 

claimably  idolatrous  ;  ^  and  the  stern  TertuUian  re- 
proaches Hermogenes  with  the  two  deadly  sins  of 
painting  and  marry ing.^  The  Council  of  Elvira  pro- 
scribed paintings  on  the  walls  of  churches,^  which 
nevertheless  became  a  common  usage  during  the  two 
next  centuries. 

In  all  respects,  this  severer  sentiment  was  mitigated 
by  time.  The  civil  uses  of  sculpture  were  generally 
recognized.  The  Christian  emperors  erected,  or  per- 
mitted the  adulation  of  their  subjects  to  erect,  their 
statues  in  the  different  cities.  That  of  Constantine 
on  the  great  porphyry  column,  with  its  singular  and  un- 
christian confusion  of  attributes,  has  been  already  no- 
ticed. Philostorgius,  indeed,  asserts  that  this  statue 
became  an  object  of  worsliip  even  to  the  Christians  ; 
that  lights  and  frankincense  were  offered  before  it, 
and  that  the  image  was  worshipped  as  that  of  a  tute- 
lary god.^  The  sedition  in  Antioch  arose  out  of  insults 
to  the  statues  of  the  emperors  ;  ^  and  the  erection  of  the 
statue  of  the  empress  before  the  great  church  in  Con- 
stantinople gave  rise  to  the  last  disturbance,  which 
ended  in  the  exile  of  Chrysostom.^  The  statue  of  the 
emperor  was  long  the  representative  of  the  imperial 
presence  ;  it  was  reverenced  in  the  capital  and  in  the 

1  "  Ubi  artifices  statuarum  et  imaginura  et  omnis  generis  simulachrorum 
diabolus  sEeculo  intulit  —  caput  facta  est  idololatrife  ars  omnis  quae  idolum 
quoque  modo  edit." — Tertull.  de  Idol.  c.  iii.  He  has  no  language  to  ex- 
press his  horror,  that  makers  of  images  should  be  admitted  into  the  clerical 
order. 

2  "  Pingit  illicit^,  nubit  assidu6,  legem  Dei  in  libidinem  defendit,  in  artem 
contemnit;  bis  falsarius  et  cauterio  et  stylo."  —  In  Hermog.  cap.  i.  "Cau- 
terio"  refers  to  encaustic  painting.  The  Apostolic  Constitutions  reckon  a 
maker  of  idols  with  persons  of  infamous  character  and  profession.  —  viii.  32. 

8  "  Placuit  picturas  in  ecclesia  esse  non  debere,  ne  quod  colitur  et  adora- 
tur,  in  parietibus  depingatur."  —  Can.  xxxvi. 
4  Vol.  ii.  p.  341.    Philostorg.  ii.  17. 
»  Vol.  iii.  p.  127.     ,  6  Vol.  iii.  148. 


384  SCULPTURE.  Book  IV 

provincial  cities  with  honors  approaching  to  adoration.^ 
The  modest  law  of  Theodosius,  by  which  he  attempted 
to  regulate  these  ceremonies,  of  which  the  adulation 
bordered  at  times  on  impiety,  expressly  reserved  the 
excessive  honors  sometimes  lavished  on  these  statues 
at  the  public  games,  for  the  supreme  Deity.^ 

The  statues  even  of  the  gods  were  condemned  with 
some  reluctance  and  remorse.  No  doubt  iconoclasm, 
under  the  first  edicts  of  the  emperors,  raged  in  the 
provinces  with  relentless  violence.  Yet  Constantino, 
we  have  seen,  did  not  scruple  to  adorn  his  capital  with 
images  both  of  gods  and  men,  plundered  indiscrimi- 
nately from  the  temples  of  Greece.  The  Christians, 
indeed,  asserted  that  they  were  set  up  for  scorn  and 
contempt. 

Even  Theodosius  exempts  such  statues  as  were  ad- 
mirable as  works  of  art  from  the  common  sentence  of 
destruction.^  This  doubtful  toleration  of  profane  art 
gradually  gave  place  to  the  admission  of  Art  into  the 
service  of  Christianity. 

Sculpture,  and,  still  more.  Painting,  were  after  no 
long  time  received  as  the  ministers  of  Christian  piety, 
and  allowed  to  lay  their  offerings  at  the  feet  of  the  new 
religion. 

1  Ei  yap  (SaatMcjg  airovTog  eIkuv  uva7z?i7]pol  x^P^"^  ^aaiTxug,  kol  Trpoa- 
Kvvovatv  upxovTsg  Koi  lepo/xTjviat  errLTEXovvTat,  Kal  upxovTeg  VTravTuai,  koc 
6fj(j.oi  TrpocKvvovacv  oh  izpbg  tt/v  aavcda  jSMnovTeg  ulM  npog  rbv  x^^P^^i^- 
TTjpa  Tov  0aGi?iio)g,  ovk  hv  Ty  (\>VGet  -deupoviievau  ulTC  kv  ypacpy  napadEiK- 
vviiivov.  —  Joann.  Damascen.  de  Imagin.  orat.  9.  Jerome,  however  (on 
Daniel),  compared  it  to  the  worship  demanded  by  Nebuchadnezzar:  "Ergo 
judices  et  principes  saeculi,  qui  imperatorum  statuas  adorant  et  imagines,  hoc 
sc  facere  intelligent  quod  tres  pueri  facere  nolentes  placuere  Deo." 

2  They  were  to  prove  their  loyalty  by  the  respect  which  they  felt  for  the 
statue  in  their  secret  hearts:  "  excedens  cultura  hominum  dignitatum  super- 
nonumini  reservetur."  —  Cod.  Theod.  xv.  4,  1. 

3  A  particular  temple  was  to  remain  open,  "  in  qua  simulachra  feruntur 
posita,  artis  pretio  quam  divinitate  metienda."  —  Cod.  Theod.  xvi.  10,  8. 


Chap.  IV.  THE  CROSS.  385 

But  the  commencement  of  Christian  art  was  slow. 


timid,  and  rude.  It  long  preferred  allegory  to  repre- 
sentation, the  true  and  legitimate  object  of  art.^  It 
expanded  but  tardily  during  the  first  centuries,  from 
the  significant  symbol  to  the  human  form  in  color  or 
in  marble. 

The  Cross  was  long  the  primal,  and  even  the  sole, 
symbol  of  Christianity,  —  the  Cross  in  its  rudest  and  its 
most  artless  form  ;  for  many  centuries  elapsed  before 
the  image  of  the  Saviour  was  wrought  upon  it.  It  was 
the  copy  of  the  common  instrument  of  ignominious 
execution  in  all  its  nakedness  ;  and  nothing,  indeed,  so 
powerfully  attests  the  triumph  of  Christianity  as  the 
elevation  of  this,  which  to  the  Jew  and  the  Heathen 
was  the  basest,  the  most  degrading,  punishment  of  the 
lowest  criminal ,2  the  proverbial  terror  of  the  wretched 

1  Rumohr,  Italienische  Forschungen,  i.  p.  158.  We  want  the  German 
words  Andeutung  (allusion  or  suggestion,  but  neither  conveys  the  same  forci- 
ble sense),  and  Darsteilung,  actual  representation  or  placing  before  the  sight. 
The  artists  who  employ  the  first  can  only  address  minds  already  furnished 
with  the  key  to  the  symbolic  or  allegoric  form.  Imitation  (the  genuine  ob- 
ject of  art)  speaks  to  all  mankind. 

2  The  author  has  expressed  in  a  former  work  his  impression  on  this  most 
remarkable  fact  in  the  history  of  Christianity. 

"  In  one  respect,  it  is  impossible  now  to  conceive  the  extent  to  which  the 
apostles  of  the  crucified  Jesus  shocked  all  the  feelings  of  mankind.  The 
public  establishment  of  Christianity,  the  adoration  of  ages,  the  reverence  of 
nations,  has  thro-vvn  around  the  Cross  of  Christ  an  indelible  and  inalienable 
sanctity.  No  effort  of  the  imagination  can  dissipate  the  illusion  of  dignity 
which  has  gathered  round  it:  it  has  been  so  long  dissevered  from  all  its 
coarse  and  humiliating  associations,  that  it  cannot  be  cast  back  and  dese- 
crated into  its  state  of  opprobrium  and  contempt.  To  the  most  daring  unbe- 
liever among  ourselves,  it  is  the  symbol  —  the  absurd  and  irrational,  he  may 
conceive,  but  still  the  ancient  and  venerable  symbol  —  of  a  powerfid  and  in- 
fluential religion.  What  was  it  to  the  Jew  and  the  Heathen  ?  —  the  basest, 
the  most  degrading,  pimishment  of  the  lowest  criminal,  the  proverbial  terror 
of  the  wretched  slave !  It  was  to  them  what  the  most  despicable  and  re- 
volting instnmient  of  public  execution  is  to  us.  Yet  to  the  Cross  of  Christ 
men  turned  from  deities,  in  which  were  embodied  every  attribute  of  strength 
power,  and  dignity,"  &c.  —  Milman's  Bampton  Lectures,  p.  279. 
VOL.  III.  25 


386  THE  CEOSS.  Book  IV. 

slave,  into  an  object  for  the  adoration  of  ages,  the  rev- 
erence of  nations.  The  glowing  language  of  Chrysos- 
tom  expresses  the  universal  sanctity  of  the  Cross  in 
the  fourth  century.  "  Nothing  so  highly  adorns  the 
imperial  crown  as  the  Cross,  which  is  more  precious 
than  the  whole  world :  its  form,  at  which,  of  old,  men 
shuddered  with  horror,  is  now  so  eagerly  and  emulously 
sought  for,  that  it  is  found  among  princes  and  subjects, 
men  and  women,  virgins  and  matrons,  slaves  and  free- 
men ;  for  all  bear  it  about,  perpetually  impressed  on  the 
most  honorable  part  of  the  body,  or  on  the  forehead  as 
on  a  pillar.  This  appears  in  the  sacred  temple,  in  the 
ordination  of  priests  ;  it  shines  again  on  the  body  of 
the  Lord,  and  in  the  mystic  supper.  It  is  to  be  seen 
everywhere  in  honor,  in  the  private  house  and  the  pub- 
lic market-place,  in  the  desert,  in  the  highway,  on 
mountains,  in  forests,  on  hills,  on  the  sea,  in  ships,  on 
islands,  on  our  beds,  and  on  our  clothes,  on  our  arms, 
in  our  chambers,  in  our  banquets,  on  gold  and  silver 
vessels,  on  gems,  in  the  paintings  of  our  walls,  on  the 
bodies  of  diseased  beasts,  on  human  bodies  possessed 
by  devils,  in  war  and  peace,  by  day,  by  night,  in  the 
dances  of  the  feasting,  and  the  meetings  of  the  fasting 
and  praying."  In  the  time  of  Chrysostom,  the  legend  of 
the  Discovery  of  the  True  Cross  was  generally  received. 
"  Why  do  all  men  vie  with  each  other  to  approach  that 
true  Cross,  on  which  the  sacred  body  was  crucified  ? 
Why  do  many,  women  as  well  as  men,  bear  fragments 
of  it  set  in  gold  as  ornaments  round  their  necks, 
though  it  was  the  sign  of  condemnation  ?  Even 
emperors  have  laid  aside  the  diadem  to  take  up  the 
Cross.i" 

1  Chrysost.,  Oper.  vol.  i.  p.  57,  569.     See  in  Hunter's  work  (p.  68,  et  seq.) 


Chap.  IY.  SYMBOLISM.  387 

A  more  various  symbolism  gradually  grew  up,  and 
extended  to  what  approached  nearer  to  works 
of  art.  Its  rude  designs  were  executed  in 
engravings  on  seals,  or  on  lamps  or  glass  vessels,  and 
before  long  in  relief  on  marble,  or  in  paintings  on  the 
walls  of  the  cemeteries.  The  earliest  of  these  were 
the  seal  rings,  of  which  many  now  exist,  with  Gnostic 
symbols  and  inscriptions.  These  seals  were  considered 
indispensable  in  ancient  housekeeping.  The  Christian 
was  permitted,  according  to  Clement  of  Alexandria, 
to  bestow  on  his  wife  one  ring  of  gold,  in  order  that, 
being  entrusted  with  the  care  of  his  domestic  concerns, 
she  might  seal  up  that  which  might  be  insecure.  But 
these  rings  must  not  have  any  idolatrous  engraving, 
only  such  as  might  suggest  Christian  or  gentle 
thoughts,  the  dove,  the  fish,^  the  ship,  the  anchor,  or 
the  apostolic  fishermen  fishing  for  men,  which  would 
remind  them  of  children  drawn  out  of  the  waters  of 
baptism.2  Tertullian  mentions  a  communion  cup  with 
the  image  of  the  Good  Shepherd  embossed  upon  it. 

the  various  forms  which  the  Cross  assumed,  and  the  fanciful  notions  concern- 
ing it. 

"  Ipsa  species  crucis  quid  est  nisi  forma  quadrata  mundi?  Oriens  de  ver- 
tice  fulgens ;  Arcton  dextra  tenet ;  Auster  in  lagva  consistit ;  Occidens  sub 
plantis  forraatur.  Unde  Apostolus  dicit :  ut  sciamus,  quae  sit  altitude,  et  lati- 
tude, et  longitudo,  et  profundum.  Aves  quando  volant  ad  aethera,  formam 
crucis  assumunt ;  homo  natans  per  aquas,  vel  orans,  fomra  crucis  vehitur. 
Navis  per  maria  antenna,  cruci  similata  sufflatur.  Thau  litera  signum  salutis 
et  crucis  describitur."  —  Hieronym.  in  Marc.  xv. 

^  The  '1X0T2,  according  to  the  ride  of  the  ancient  anagram,  meant 
'lT]Govg  Xpiarbg  Oeov  Tide  'Zurijp.  It  is  remarkable,  according  to  the  high 
authority  of  the  Cavalier  de  Rossi,  that,  after  Constantino,  the  IX0T2,  as  an 
anagram  and  as  a  symbol,  almost  entirely  disappears.  It  was  a  secret  symbol 
used  for  the  purpose  of  what  we  may  venture  to  call  Christian  Freemasonry 
in  early  and  dangerous  times.  —  See  the  long  and  very  curious  letter  ad- 
dressed to  Dom  Pitra,  Editor  of  the  Spicilegium  Solesmense,  t.  iii. ;  especially 
p.  498. 

2  Clem.  Alex.  Paedagog.  iii.  2. 


388  SYMBOLISM.  Book  IV. 

But  Christian  symbolism  soon  disdained  these  narrow 
limits,  extended  itself  into  the  whole  domain  of  the 
Old  Testament  as  well  as  of  the  Gospel,  and  even  ven- 
tured at  times  over  the  unhallowed  borders  of  Pagan- 
ism. The  persons  and  incidents  of  the  Old  Testament 
had  all  a  typical  or  allegorical  reference  to  the  doc- 
trines of  Christianity.^  Adam  asleep,  while  Eve  was 
taken  from  his  side,  represented  the  death  of  Christ ; 
Eve,  the  mother  of  all  who  are  bora  to  new  life  ;  Adam 
and  Eve  with  the  serpent  had  a  latent  allusion  to  the 
new  Adam  and  the  Cross.  Cain  and  Abel,  Noah  and 
the  ark  with  the  dove  and  the  olive  branch,  the  sacri- 
fice of  Isaac,  Joseph  sold  by  his  brethren  as  a  bond- 
slave, Moses  by  the  burning  bush,  breaking  the  tables 
of  the  law,  striking  water  from  the  rock,  with  Pharaoh 
perishing  in  the  Red  Sea,  the  ark  of  God,  Samson 
bearing  the  gates  of  Gaza,  Job  on  the  dungheap,  David 
and  Goliah,  Elijah  in  the  car  of  fire,  Tobias  with  the 
fish,  Daniel  in  the  lion's  den,  Jonah  issuing  from  the 
whale's  belly  or  under  the  gourd,  the  three  children  in 
the  fiery  furnace,  Ezekiel  by  the  valley  of  dead  bones, 
were  favorite  subjects,  and  had  all  their  mystic  signifi- 
cance. They  reminded  the  devout  worshipper  of  the 
Sacrifice,  Resurrection,  and  Redemption  of  Christ. 
The  direct  illustrations  of  the  New  Testament  showed 
the  Lord  of  the  Church  on  a  high  mountain,  with  four 
rivers,  the  Gospels,  flowing  from  it ;  the  Good  Shep- 
herd bearing  the  lamb ,2  and  sometimes  the  apostles 
and  saints  of  a  later  time  appeared  in  the  symbols. 

1  See  Mamachi,  Dei  Costumi  de'  primitivi  Christiani,  lib.  i.  c.  iv. 

2  There  is  a  Heathen  Prototype  (see  R.  Rochette)  even  for  this  good  shep- 
herd, and  one  of  the  earliest  images  is  encircled  with  the  "  Four  Seasons  " 
represented  by  Genii  with  Pagan  attributes.  Compare  Munter,  p.  61. 
Tombstones,  and  even  inscriptions,  were  freely  borrowed.  One  Christian 
tomb  has  been  published  by  P.  Lupi,  inscribed  "  Diis  Manibus." 


Chap.  IY.  SYMBOLISM.  389 

Paganism  lent  some  of  her  spoils  to  the  conqueror.^ 
The  Saviour  was  represented  under  the  person  and 
with  the  lyre  of  Orpheus,  either  as  tlie  civilizer  of  men, 
or  in  allusion  to  the  Orphic  poetry,  which  had  already 
been  interpolated  with  Christian  images.  Hence  also 
the  lyre  was  the  emblem  of  truth.  Other  images,  par- 
ticularly those  of  animals,  were  not  uncommon. ^     The 

1  In  three  very  curious  dissertations  in  the  last  volume  of  the  Memoirs  of 
the  Academy  of  Inscriptions  on  works  of  art  in  the  catacombs  of  Rome,  M. 
Eaoul  Rochette  has  shown  how  much,  either  through  the  employment  of 
Heathen  artists  or  their  yet  imperfectly  unheathenized  Christianity,  the 
Christians  borrowed  from  the  monumental  decorations,  the  symbolic  figures, 
and  even  the  inscriptions,  of  Heathpnism.  ]M.  Rochette  says,  "  La  physiouo- 
mie  presque  payenne  qu'offi'e  la  decoration  des  catacombes  de  Rome,"  p.  96. 
The  Protestant  travellers,  Burnet  and  Misson,  from  the  singular  mixture  of  the 
sacred  and  the  profane  in  these  monuments,  inferred  that  these  catacombs 
were  common  places  of  burial  for  Heathens  and  Christians.  The  Roman 
antiquarians,  however,  have  clearly  proved  the  contrary.  M.  Raoul  Rochette, 
as  well  as  M.  Rostelli  (in  an  essay  in  the  Roms  Beschreibung),  consider  this 
point  conclusively  made  out  in  favor  of  the  Roman  writers.  M.  R.  Rochette 
has  adduced  monuments  in  which  the  s\Tnbolic  images  and  the  language  of 
Heathenism  and  Christianity  are  strangely  mingled  together.  Munter  had 
observed  the  Jordan  represented  as  a  river  god. 

2  The  catacombs  at  Rome  are  the  chief  authorities  for  this  symbolic  school 
of  Christian  art.  They  are  represented  in  the  works  of  Bosio,  Roma  Sotte- 
ranea,  Aringhi,  Bottari,  and  Boldetti.  But  perhaps  the  best  view  of  them, 
being  in  fact  a  very  judicious  and  well-arranged  selection  of  the  most  curi- 
ous works  of  early  Christian  art,  may  be  found  in  the  Sinnbilder  imd  Kunst- 
vorstellungen  der  alten  Christen,  by  Bishop  Munter. 

The  recent  discoveries  in  the  catacombs  add  some  curious  facts  to  the 
history  of  the  symbolism  of  Christian  art.  In  the  catacomb  of  Callistus  dis- 
covered and  explored  by  the  Cav.  de  Rossi,  which  contains,  according  to  his 
statement,  the  remains  of  eleven  Roman  pontiffs,  from  Pontianus  to  Melchi- 
ades,  as  well  as  those  of  St.  Cajcilia,  appear,  in  I  fear  fading  colors,  symbolic 
representations  of  the  Rite  of  Baptism  and  of  the  Holy  Eucharist.  There  is 
a  man  with  a  cloak  or  pallium  over  a  tunic,  laying  hands  on  a  naked  child 
just  emerged  from  a  stream  of  running  water;  on  the  other  side  is  a  seated 
figure,  with  a  pallium,  like  the  dress  of  a  philosopher,  apparently  in  the  act 
of  preaching. 

The  sjTnbolism  of  the  Eucharist  is  more  various,  in  more  than  one  pic- 
ture, and  therefore  more  obscure.  In  one  is  a  table  with  loaves  of  bread, 
and  a  fish  in  a  platter.  On  one  wall  is  a  man  stretching  out  his  naked  arm 
over  the  bread,  as  if,  according  to  De  Rossi,  in  the  act  of  consecrating  it ;  oa 
the  other  is  a  woman  in  the  act  of  prayer:  it  is  conjectured  that  she  symbol* 


390  SYMBOLISM.  Book  IV. 

Church  was  represented  by  a  ship,  the  anchor  denoted 
the  pure  ground  of  faith;  the  stag  implied  the  hart 
which  thirsted  after  the  water-brooks ;  the  horse,  the 
rapidity  with  which  men  ought  to  run  and  embrace 
the  doctrine  of  salvation  ;  the  hare,  the  timid  Christian 
hunted  by  persecutors ;  the  lion  prefigured  strength, 
or  appeared  as  the  emblem  of  the  tribe  of  Judah  ;  the 
fish  was  an  anagram  of  the  Saviour's  name ;  the  dove 
indicated  the  simplicity,  the  cock  the  vigilance,  of  the 
Christian  ;  the  peacock  and  the  phoenix,  the  Resurrec- 
tion. 

But  these  were  simple  and  artless  memorials,  to 
which  devotion  gave  all  their  value  and  significance ; 
in  themselves  they  neither  had,  nor  aimed  at,  grandeur 
or  beauty.  They  touched  the  soul  by  the  reminiscen- 
ces which  they  awakened,  or  the  thoughts  which  they 
suggested :  they  had  nothing  of  that  inherent  power 
over  the  emotions  of  the  soul  which  belongs  to  the 
higher  works  of  art.^ 

izes  the  Chui-ch.  The  fish  (the  'Ixdij^),  according  to  De  Rossi,  symbolizes 
the  Saviour;  the  real  presence  (or  if  I  understand  Cav.  de  Rossi,  more  than 
the  real  presence);  but  how  a  symbol  can  be  more  than  symbolic,  I  am  at  a 
loss  to  comprehend.  C.  de  Rossi's  connection  of  the  remarkable  representa- 
tion of  the  scene  in  John  xxi.  9  and  19  with  the  Eucharist  seems  to  me  a 
very  perilous  interpretation,  especially  to  a  devout  Roman  CathoUc.  —  Letter 
to  Dom  Pitra,  quoted  above. 

1  All  these  works,  in  their  different  forms,  are  in  general  of  coarse  and 
inferior  execution.  The  funereal  vases  found  in  the  Christian  cemeteries  are 
of  the  lowest  style  of  workmanship.  The  senator  Buonarotti,  in  his  work, 
"  De'  Vetri  Cemeteriali,  thus  accounts  for  this :  "  Stettero  sempre  lontane  da 
quelle  arti,  colle  quali  avessero  potuto  correr  pericolo  di  contaminarsi  colla 
idolatria,  e  da  cio  avvenne,  che  pochi,  o  niuno  di  essi  si  diede  alia  pittura  e 
alia  scultura,  le  quali  aveano  per  oggetto  principale  di  rappresentare  le  delta, 
e  le  favole  de'  gentili.  Sicche,  volendo  i  fedeli  adornar  con  simboli  devoti  i 
loro  vasi,  erano  forzati  per  lo  piii  a  valersi  di  artefici  inesperti,  e  che  profes- 
savano  altri  mestieri."  —  See  Mamachi,  vol.  i.  p.  275.  Compare  Rumohr,  who 
suggests  other  reasons  for  the  rudeness  of  the  earliest  Christian  relief,  in  my 
opinion,  though  by  no  means  irreconcilable  with  this,  neither  so  simple  nor 
Batisfactory.  —  p.  170. 


Chap.  IV.  PERSON  OF  THE  SAVIOUR.  391 

Art  must  draw  nearer  to  human  nature  and  to  the 
truth  of  Hfe,  before  it  can  accomplish  its  object.  The 
elements  of  this  feeling,  even  the  first  sense  of  external 
grandeur  and  beauty,  had  yet  to  be  infused  into  the 
Christian  mind.  The  pure  and  holy  and  majestic 
inward  thoughts  and  sentiments  had  to  work  into  form, 
and  associate  themselves  with  appropriate  visible  im- 
ages.    This  want  and  this  desire  were  long  unfelt. 

The  person  of  the  Saviour  was  a  subject  of  grave  dis- 
pute among  the  older  Fathers.  Some  took  person  of 
the  expressions  of  the  sacred  writings  in  a  ^^^  Saviour. 
literal  sense,  and  insisted  that  his  outward  form  was 
mean  and  unseemly.  Justin  Martyr  speaks  of  his 
want  of  form  and  comeliness.^  Tertullian,  who  could 
not  but  be  in  extremes,  expresses  the  same  seutiment 
with  his  accustomed  vehemence.  The  person  of  Christ 
wanted  not  merely  divine  majesty,  but  even  human 
beauty. 2  Clement  of  Alexandria  maintains  the  same 
opinion.^  But  the  most  curious  illustration  of  this 
notion  occurs  in  the  work  of  Origen  against  Celsus. 
In  the  true  spirit  of  Grecian  art  aud  philosophy,  Celsus 
denies  that  the  Deity  could  dwell  in  a  mean  form  or 
low  stature.  Origen  is  embarrassed  with  the  argu- 
ment :  he  fears  to  recede  from  the  literal  interpreta- 
tion of  Isaiah,  but  endeavors  to  soften  it  off,  and  denies 
that  it  refers  to  lowliness  of'  stature,  or  means  more 
than  the  absence  of  noble  form  or  pre-eminent  beauty. 
He  then  triumphantly  adduces  the  verse  of  the  forty- 

1  Tdv  aEi6r]  koX  uTi/xnv  ^avevra.  —  Dial,  cum  Tryph.  85  and  88,  100. 

2  "  Quodcuraque  illud  corpusculum  sit,  quoniam  habitum,  et  qiioniam  con- 
spectum  sit,  si  inglorius,  si  iguobilis,  si  inhonorabilis ;  meus  erit  Christus.  .  .  . 
Sed  species  ejus  inhonorata,  deficiens  ultra  omnes  homines."  —  Contr.  Marc, 
iii.  17.  "Ne  aspectu  quidem  honestus."  —  Adv.  Judaeos,  c.  14.  "Etiam 
despicientium  forraam  ejus  h^ec  erat  vox.  Adeo  nee  humanse  honestatis  cor- 
pus fuit,  nedum  coelestis  claritatis."  — De  Carn.  Christi,  c.  9- 

3  Pasdagoff.  iii.  1. 


392  PERSON  OF  THE   SAVIOUR.  Book  IV 

fourth  Psalm,  "  Ride  on  in  thy  loveliness  and  in  thy 
beauty."  ^ 

But,  as  the  poetry  of  Christianity  obtained  more 
full  possession  of  the  human  mind,  these  debasing  and 
inglorious  conceptions  were  repudiated  by  the  more 
vivid  imagination  of  the  great  writers  in  the  fourth 
century.  The  great  principle  of  Christian  art  began 
to  awaken ;  the  outworking,  as  it  were,  of  the  inward 
purity,  beauty,  and  harmony,  upon  the  symmetry  of 
the  external  form,  and  the  lovely  expression  of  the 
countenance.  Jerome,  Chrysostom,  Ambrose,  Augus- 
tine, with  one  voice,  assert  the  majestic  and  engaging 
appearance  of  the  Saviour.  The  language  of  Jerome 
first  shows  the  sublime  conception  which  was  brood- 
ing, as  it  were,  in  the  Christian  mind,  and  was  at 
length  slowly  to  develop  itself  up  to  the  gradual  per- 
fection of  Christian  art.  "  Assuredly  that  splendor 
and  majesty  of  the  hidden  divinity,  which  shone  even 
in  his  human  countenance,  could  not  but  attract  at 
first  sight  all  beholders."  —  "Unless  he  had  something 
celestial  in  his  countenance  and  in  his  look,  the  apostles 
would  not  immediately  have  followed  him."^  —  "The 
Heavenly  Father  poured  upon  him  in  full  streams 
that  corporeal  grace  which  is  distilled  drop  by  drop 
upon  mortal  man."  Such  are  the  glowing  expressions 
of  Chrysostom.^     Gregory  of  Nyssa   applies   all   the 

1  ^Aiirjxavdv  yap  oto)  -delov  rt  TzTieov  rojv  oKki^v  izpoarjv,  firidhv  uTiXov 
dia^epeLv  tovto  6e  ovdev  uKkov  dticpepev,  al?i  cog  faoi,  fiLKpov,  kuI  dvaecdeg^ 
Kol  uyevig  rjv.  —  Celsus,  apud  Origen.  vi.  75.  Origen  quotes  the  text  of  the 
LXX.,  in  which  it  is  the  forty-fourth,  and  thus  translated:  T?)  (bpaLorijn  aov, 
Kal  Tu  kuXAel  gov  Kal  Ivrewov^  koI  Karevodov,  aal  (SaaiXeve. 

2  "  Certe  fulgor  ipse  et  majestas  divinitatis  occultae,  quae  etiam  in  humana 
facie  relucebat,  ex  primo  ad  se  venientes  trahere  poterat  aspectu."  —  Hie- 
ronym.  in  Matth.  c.  ix.  9. 

"  Nisi  enim  habuisset  et  in  vultu  quiddam  et  in  oculis  sidereum,  nunquam 
eum  statira  secuti  fuissent  Apostoli."  —  Epist.  ad  Princip.  Virginem. 
8  In  Ps.  xliv. 


Chap.IY.  person  of  the  SAVIOUR.  393 

vivid  imagery  of  the  Song  of  Solomon  to  the  person 
as  well  as  to  the  doctrine  of  Christ ;  and  Augustine 
declares  that  "  He  was  beautiful  on  his  mother's 
bosom,  beautiful  in  the  arms  of  his  parents,  beautiful 
upon  the  Cross,  beautiful  in  the  sepulchre." 

There  were  some,  however,  who  even  at  this,  and  to 
a  much  later  period,  chiefly  among  those  addicted 
to  monkish  austerity,  adhered  to  the  older  opinion,  as 
though  hum^n  beauty  were  something  carnal  and 
material.  St.  Basil  interprets  even  the  forty-fourth 
Psalm  in  the  more  austere  sense.  Many  of  the 
painters  among  the  Greeks,  even  in  the  eighth  cen- 
tury, who  were  monks  of  the  rule  of  St.  Basil,  are 
said  to  have  been  too  faithful  to  the  judgment  of 
their  master,  or  perhaps  their  rude  art  was  better 
qualified  to  represent  a  mean  figure,  with  harsh  out- 
line and  stiff  attitude  and  a  blackened  countenance, 
rather  than  majesty  of  form  or  beautiful  expression. 
Such  are  the  Byzantine  pictures  of  this  school.  The 
harsh  Cyril  of  Alexandria  repeats  the  assertion  of 
the  Saviour's  mean  appearance,  even  beyond  the  ordi- 
nary race  of  men,  in  the  strongest  language.^  This 
controversy  proves  decisively  that  there  was  no  tradi- 
tionary type,  which  was  admitted  to  represent  the 
human  form  of  the  Saviour.  The  distinct  assertion 
of  Augustine,  that  the  form  and  countenance  of  Christ 
were  entirely  unknown,  and  painted  with  every  possible 
variety  of  expression,  is  conclusive  as  to  the  West.^ 

1  'A/lAa  TO  sldog  avTov  urifiov,  eKXeirrov  Tzapu  iruvTag  Toiig  viovg  ruv 
avdpo)Tzo)v.  —  De  Nud.  Noe,  lib.  ii.  t.  i.  p.  43. 

2  "  Qua  fuerit  ille  facie  nos  penitus  ignoramus:  nam  et  ipsius  Dominicae 
fkcies  caniis  innumerabilium  cogitationum  diversitate  variatur  et  fingitur, 
quae  tamen  una  erat,  quaecunque  erat."  —  De  Trin.  lib.  vii.  c.  4,  5. 

The  Christian  apologists  uniformly  acknowledge  the  charge,  that  they  have 
no  altars  or  images. — Minuc  Fel.  Octavius,  x.  p.  61.  Arnob.  vi.  post  init. 
Origen,  contra  Celsum,  viii.  p.  389.    Compare  Jablonski  (Dissertatio  de  Ori- 


394  EARLIEST  IMAGES  GNOSTIC.  Book  IV. 

In  the  East  we  may  dismiss  at  once  as  a  manifest 
fable,  probably  of  local  superstition,  the  statue  of 
Christ  at  Caesarea  Philippi,  representing  him  in  the 
act  of  healing  the  woman  with  the  issue  of  blood.^ 
But  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  paintings,  purporting 
to  be  actual  resemblances  of  Jesus,  of  Peter,  and  of 
Paul,  were  current  in  the  time  of  Eusebius  in  the 
East,^  though  I  am  disinclined  to  receive  the  authority 
of  a  later  writer,  that  Constantine  adorned  his  new 
city  with  likenesses  of  Christ  and  his  apostles. 

The  earliest  images  emanated,  no  doubt,  from  the 
Earliest  Guostic  sccts,  who  uot  merely  blended  the 
Gnostic.  Christian  and  Pagan  or  Oriental  notions  on 
their  gems  and  seals,  engraved  with  the  mysterious 
Abraxas ;  but  likewise,  according  to  their  eclectic 
system,  consecrated  small  golden  or  silver  images  of 
all  those  ancient  sages  whose  doctrines  they  had 
adopted,  or  had  fused  together  in  their  wild  and  vari- 
ous theories.  The  image  of  Christ  appeared  with 
those  of  Pythagoras,  Plato,  Aristotle,  and  probably 
some  of  the  Eastern  philosophers.^    The  Carpocratians 

gine  Imaginum  Christi,  Opuscul.  vol.  iii.  p.  377),  who  well  argues,  that,  con- 
sistently with  Jewish  manners,  there  could  not  have  been  any  likeness  of  the 
Lord.    Compare  Pearson  on  the  Creed,  vol.  ii.  p.  101. 

1  Euseb.,  H.  E.  vii.  18,  with  the  Excursus  of  Heinichen.  These  were, 
probably,  two  bronze  figures,  one  of  a  kneeling  woman  in  the  act  of  suppli- 
cation ;  the  other,  the  upright  figure  of  a  man,  probably  of  a  Caisar,  which 
the  Christian  inhabitants  of  Cajsarea  Philippi  transformed  into  the  Saviour 
and  the  woman  in  the  Gospels:  Tvvtov  61  tov  avdpiavTa  ehova  tov  'bjaov 
(bepELv  cAeyov.  Eusebius  seems  desirous  of  believing  the  story.  Compare 
Munter. 

2  "Gre  Kot  TO)V  ^AwogtoIov  tCjv  avrov  Tug  ecKovag  Uavlov  Kal  IHrpov  Koi 
avTov  6^  TOV  XpioTov  6lu  xP^I^-^'^^^'^  ^^  ypafalg  auCpiikvag  IcTop^aafiev. — 
Ibid.  loc.  cit. 

3  Irenreus  de  Haer.  i.  c  84  (edit.  Grabe).  Epiphan.  Ha;rcs.  xxvii.  6.  Au- 
gustin.  de  Ha^resib.  c  vii.  These  images  of  Christ  were  said  to  have  been 
derived  from  the  collection  of  Pontius  Pilate.  Compare  Jablonski's  Disser- 
tation. 


Chap.  IV.  EARLIEST  IMAGES  GNOSTIC.  395 

had  painted  portraits  of  Christ;  and  Marcenina,^  a 
celebrated  female  heresiarch,  exposed  to  the  view  of 
the  Gnostic  church  in  Rome  the  portraits  of  Jesus 
and  St.  Paul,  of  Homer  and  of  Pythagoras.  Of  this 
nature,  no  doubt,  were  the  images  of  Abraham, 
Orpheus,  Pythagoras,  Apollonius,  and  Christ,  set  up 
in  his  private  chapel  by  the  emperor  Alexander  Seve- 
rus.  These  small  images, ^  which  varied  very  much, 
it  should  seem,  in  form  and  feature,  could  contribute 
but  little,  if  in  the  least,  to  form  that  type  of  super- 
human beauty,  which  might  mingle  the  sentijnent 
of  human  sympathy  with  reverence  for  the  divinity  of 
"Christ.  Christian  art  long  brooded  over  such  feelings 
as  those  expressed  by  Jerome  and  Augustine,  before 
it  could  even  attempt  to  embody  them  in  marble  or 
color.^ 

1  Marcellina  lived  about  the  middle  of  the  second  century,  or  a  little  later. 

2  Of  these  Gnostic  images  of  Christ  there  are  only  two  extant  which  seem 
to  have  some  claim  to  authenticity  and  antiquity.  Those  from  the  collection 
of  Chifflet  are  now  considered  to  represent  Serapis.  One  is  mentioned  by 
M.  Raoul  Rochette  (Types  Imitatifs  de  I'Art  du  Christianisme,  p.  21):  it  is  a 
stone,  a  kind  of  tessera  with  a  head  of  Christ,  young  and  beardless,  in  pro- 
file, with  the  word  XPI2T0S  in  Greek  characters,  with  the  symbolic  fish 
below.  This  is  in  the  collection  of  M.  Fortia  d'Urban,  and  is  engraved  as  a 
vignette  to  M.  R.  Eochette's  essay.  The  other  is  adduced  in  an  "  Essay  on 
Ancient  Coins,  Medals,  and  Gems,  as  illustrating  the  Progress  of  Christianity 
in  the  Early  Ages,  by  the  Rev.  R.  Walsh."  This  is  a  kind  of  medal  or  tes- 
sera of  metal,  representing  Christ  as  he  is  described  in  the  apocryphal  letter 
of  Lentulus  to  the  Roman  senate.  (Fabric.  Cod.  Apoc.  Nov.  Test.  p.  301, 
302.)  It  has  a  head  of  Christ,  the  hair  parted  over  the  forehead,  covering 
the  ears,  and  falling  over  the  shoulders ;  the  shape  is  long,  the  beard  short 
and  thin.  It  has  the  name  of  Jesus  in  Hebrew,  and  has  not  the  nimbus,  or 
glory.  On  the  reverse  is  an  inscription,  in  a  kind  of  cabalistic  character,  of 
which  the  sense  seems  to  be,  "The  Messiah  reigns  in  peace;  God  is  made 
man."  This  may  possibly  be  a  tessera  of  the  .Jewish  Christians,  or  modelled 
after  a  Gnostic  type  of  the  first  age  of  Christianity.  See  Discours  sur  les 
Types  Imitatifs  de  I'Art  du  Christianisme,  par  M.  Raoul  Rochette. 

8  I  must  not  omit  the  description  of  the  person  of  our  Saviour  in  the  spu- 
rious Epistle  of  Lentulus  to  the  Roman  Senate  (see  Fabric.  Cod.  Apoc.  N.  T. 
i.  p.  301"*,  since  it  is  referred  to  constantly  by  writers  on  early  Christian  art. 


396         EARLIEST  PORTRAITS  OF  THE  SAVIOUR.      Book  IV. 

The  earliest  pictures  of  the  Saviour  seem  formed 
The  earliest  ^11  oiie  tjpe  or  model.  They  all  represent 
portraits  ^-^Q  Qval  counteuance,  slightly  lengthened; 
Saviour.  ^^^^  grave,  soft,  and  melancholy  expres- 
sion ;  the  short,  thin  beard ;  the  hair  parted  on  the 
forehead  into  two  long  masses,  which  fall  upon  the 
shoulders. 1  Such  are  the  features  which  characterize 
the  earliest  extant  painting,  —  that  on  the  vault  of  the 
cemetery  of  St.  Callistus,  —  in  which  the  Saviour  is 
represented  as  far  as  his  bust,  like  the  images  on 
bucklers  in  use  among  the  Romans.^  A  later  paint- 
ing, in  the  chapel  of  the  cemetery  of  St.  Pontianus, 
resembles  this ;  ^  and  a  third  was  discovered  in  the 
catacomb  then  called  that  of  St.  Callistus  by  Boldetti, 
but  unfortunately  perished  while  he  was  looking  at  it, 
in  the  attempt  to  remove  it  from  the  wall.  The  same 
countenance  appears  on  some,  but  not  the  earliest, 
reliefs  on  the  sarcophagi ;  five  of  which  may  be  re- 
ferred, according  to  M.  Rochette,  to  the  time  of  Julian. 

But  what  proof  is  there  of  the  existence  of  this  Epistle  previous  to  the  great 
era  of  Christian  painting?  "  He  was  a  man  of  tall  and  well-proportioned 
form ;  the  countenance  severe  and  impressive,  so  as  to  move  the  beholders  at 
once  to  love  and  awe.  His  hair  was  of  the  color  of  wine  {vlnei  coloris), 
reaching  to  his  ears,  with  no  radiation  {sine  radiat'ione,  without  the^nimbus) 
and  standing  up,  from  his  ears,  clustering  and  bright,  and  flowing  down  over 
his  shoulders,  parted  on  the  top  according  to  the  fashion  of  the  Nazarenes. 
The  brow  high  and  open;  the  complexion  clear,  with  a  delicate  tinge  of  red; 
the  aspect  frank  and  pleasing;  the  nose  and  mouth  finely  formed;  the  beard 
thick,  parted,  and  the  color  of  the  hair;  the  eyes  blue,  and  exceedingly 
bright.  .  .  .  His  countenance  was  of  wonderful  sweetness  and  gravity;  no 
one  ever  saw  him  laugh,  though  he  was  seen  to  weep;  his  stature  was  tall; 
the  hands  and  arms  finely  formed.  ...  He  was  the  most  beautiful  of  tiie 
sons  of  men."  Compare  Latin  Christianity.  The  unanswerable  proof  that 
this  description  is  of  late  date  is  that  it  was  not  produced  at  the  second 
Council  of  Nicsea,  at  which  time  Christendom  was  ransacked  to  find  proofs, 
good  or  bad,  of  early  image-worship. 

1  Raoul  Rochette,  p.  26. 

2  Bottari,  Pitture  e  Sculture  Sacre,  vol.  ii.  tav.  Ixx.  p.  42. 

8  This,  however,  was  probably  repainted  in  the  time  of  Hadrian  I- 


Chap.  IV.       THE  FATHER  RARELY  REPRESENTED.  .397 

Of  one,  that  of  Olybrius,  the  date  appears  certahi,  — 
the  close  of  the  fourth  century.  These,  the  paintings 
at  least,  are  no  doubt  the  work  of  Greek  artists  ;  and 
this  head  may  be  considered  tlie  archetype,  the  Hieratic 
model,  of  the  Christian  conception  of  the  Saviour, 
imagined  in  the  East,  and  generally  adopted  in  the 
West.i 

Reverential  awe,  diffidence  in  their  own  skill,  the 
still  dominant  sense  of  the  purely  spiritual  The  Father 

**  r<irGlv  I'GDrG- 

nature  of  the  Parental  Deity ,2  or  perhaps  the  seated. 
exclusive  habit  of  dwelling  upon  tlie  Son  as  the  direct 
object  of  religious  worship,  restrained  early  Christian 
art  from  those  attempts  to  which  we  are  scarcely 
reconciled  by  the  sublimity  and  originality  of  Michael 
Angelo  and  Raffaelle.  Even  the  symbolic  representa- 
tion of  the  Father  was  rare.  Where  it  does  appear, 
it  is  under  the  symbol  of  an  immense  hand  issuing 
from  a  cloud,  or  a  ray  of  light  streaming  from  heaven, 
to  imply,  it  may  be  presumed,  the  creative  and  all- 
enlightening  power  of  the  Universal  Father.^ 

1  Rumohr  considers  a  statue  of  the  Good  Shepherd  iu  the  Vatican  collec- 
tion, from  its  style,  to  be  a  ver}^  early  work ;  the  oldest  monument  of  Chris- 
tian sculpture,  prior  to  the  urn  of  Junius  Bassus,  which  is  of  the  middle  of 
the  fourth  century.  —  Italienische  Forschungen,  vol.  i.  p.  168.  In  that  usu- 
ally thought  the  earliest,  that  of  Junius  Bassus,  Jesus  Christ  is  represented 
between  the  apostles,  beardless,  seated  in  a  curule  chair,  with  a  roll  half  im- 
folded  in  his  hand,  and  under  his  feet  a  singular  representation  of  the  upper 
part  of  a  man  holding  an  inflated  veil  with  his  two  hands,  a  common  symbol 
or  personification  of  heaven.  See  R.  Rochette,  p.  43,  who  considers  these 
sarcophagi  anterior  to  the  formation  of  the  ordinaiy  type. 

2  Compare  Munter,  ii.  p.  49:  "Nefashabent  docti  ejus  (ecclesise  Catho- 
licae)  credere  Deum  figura  humani  corporis  terminatum."  —  August.  Conf. 
vi.  11. 

3  M.  Emeiic  David  (in  his  Discours  sur  les  Anciens  Monumens,  to  which 
I  am  indebted  for  much  information)  says  that  the  French  artists  had  first 
the  heureuse  hardiesse  of  representing  the  Eternal  Father  under  the  human 
form.  The  instance  to  which  he  alludes  is  contained  in  a  Latin  Bible  (in  the 
Cabinet  Imperial)  cited  by  Montfaucon,  but  not  fully  described.  It  was  pre- 
sented to  Charles  the  Bald  by  the  canons  of  the  church  of  Tours,  in  the  year 


398  THE  VIRGIN".  Book  IV. 

The  Virgin  Mother  could  not  but  offer  herself  to 
the  imagination,  and  be  accepted  at  once 
as  the  subject  of  Christian  art.  As  respect 
for  the  mother  of  Christ  deepened  into  reverence, 
reverence  bowed  down  to  adoration ;  as  she  became 
the  mother  of  God,  and  herself  a  deity  in  popular 
worship,  this  worship  was  the  parent,  and,  in  some 
sense,  the  offspring  of  art.  Augustine,  indeed,  admits 
that  the  real  features  of  the  Virgin,  as  of  the  Saviour, 
were  unknown.^  But  the  fervent  language  of  Jerome 
shows  that  art  had  already  attempted  to  shadow  out 
the  conception  of  mingling  virgin  purity  and  maternal 
tenderness,  which  as  yet  probably  was  content  to 
dwell  within  the  verge  of  human  nature,  and  aspired 
not  to  mingle  a  divine  idealism  with  these  more  mortal 
feelings.  The  outward  form  and  countenance  could 
not  but  be  the  image  of  the  purity  and  gentleness  of 
the  soul  within ;  and  this  primary  object  of  Christian 
art  could  not  but  give  rise  to  one  of  its  characteristic 
distinctions  from  that  of  the  ancients,  —  the  substitu- 
tion of  mental  expression  for  purely  corporeal  beauty. 
As  reverential  modesty  precluded  all  exposure  of  the 
form,  the  countenance  was  the  whole  picture.  This 
reverence,  indeed,  in  the  very  earliest  specimens  of 
the  art,  goes  still  further,  and  confines  itself  to  the 
expression  of  composed  and  dignified  attitude.  The 
artists  did  not  even  venture  to  expose  the  face.  With 
one  exception,  the  Virgin  appears  veiled  on  the  reliefs 
on  the  sarcophagi,  and  in  the  earliest  paintings.  The 
oldest  known  picture  of  the  Virgin  is  in  the  catacomb, 

S50.     This  period  is  far  beyond  the  bounds  of  our  present  history.     See 
therefore  E.  David,  pp.  43,  46. 

1  "Neque  enira  novimus  faciem  Virginis  Marise." — Augustin.  de  Triu. 
c.  viii.  "  Ut  ipsa  coi-poris  facies  simulacrum  fuerit  mentis,  figura  probitatis." 
—  Amhros.  de  Virgin,  lib.  ii.  c.  2. 


Chap.  IV.  THE  ^TRGIN-.  399 

once  so  called,  of  St.  Callistus,  in  wliich  she  appears 
seated  in  the  calm  majesty,  and  in  the  dress,  of  a 
Koman  matron.  It  is  the  transition,  as  it  were,  from 
ancient  to  modern  art,  which  still  timidly  adheres  to 
its  conventional  type  of  dignity.^  But,  in  the  sarcoph- 
agi, art  has  already  more  nearly  approximated  to 
its  most  exquisite  subject:  the  Virgin  Mother  is 
seated,  with  the  divine  child  in  her  lap,  receiving  the 
homage  of  the  Wise  Men.  She  is  still  veiled,^  but 
with  the  rounded  form  and  grace  of  youth,  and  a  kind 
of  sedate  chastity  of  expression  in  her  form,  which 
seems  designed  to  convey  the  feeling  of  gentleness 
and  holiness.  Two  of  these  sarcophagi  —  one  in  the 
Vatican  collection,  and  one  at  Milan  —  appear  to  dis- 
prove the  common  notion,  that  the  representation 
of  the  Virgin  was  unknown  before  the  Council  of 
Ephesus.^  That  council,  in  its  zeal  against  the  doc- 
trines of  Nestorius,  established,  as  it  has  been  called, 
a  Hieratic  type  of  the  Virgin,  which  is  traced  through- 
out Byzantine  art,  and  on  the  coins  of  the  Eastern 
empire.  This  type,  however,  gradually  degenerates 
with  the  darkness  of  the  age,  and  the  decline  of  art. 
The  countenance,  sweetly  smiling  on  the  child,  be- 
comes sad  and  severe.  The  head  is  bowed  with  a 
gloomy  and  almost  sinister  expression ;  and  the  coun- 
tenance gradually  darkens,  till  it  assumes  a  black 
color,  and  seems  to  adapt  itself  in  this  respect  to  an 
ancient  tradition.  At  length,  even  the  sentiment  of 
maternal  affection  is  effaced ;   both   the  mother  and 

1  Bottari,  Pitture  e  Sculture  Sacre,  t.  iii.  p.  Ill,  tav.  218.     See  M^moire 
de  M.  Raoul  Rochette,  Acad^m.  Inscript. 

2  In  Bottari  there  is  one  picture  of  the  Virgin  with  the  head  naked  (t.  ii. 
tav.  cxxvi.),  —  the  only  one  kno^vm  to  M.  Raoul  Rochette. 

8  A.D.  431.    This  opinion  is  maintained  by  Basnage  and  most  Protestant 
writers. 


400  THE  APOSTLES.  Book  IV. 

child  become  stiff  and  lifeless ;  the  child  is  swathed 
in  tight  bands,  and  has  an  expression  of  pain  rather 
than  of  gentleness  or  placid  infancy.^ 

The  apostles,  particularly  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul, 
Tiie  were  among  the  earlier  objects  of  Christian 

apostles.  ^^^^  Though  in  one  place,  St.  Augustine 
asserts  that  the  persons  of  the  apostles  were  equally 
unknown  with  that  of  the  Saviour,  in  another  he 
acknowledges  that  their  pictures  were  exhibited  on 
the  walls  of  many  churches  for  the  edification  of  the 
faithful.2  In  a  vision  ascribed  to  Constantine,  but  of 
very  doubtful  authority,  the  emperor  is  said  to  have 
recognized  the  apostles  by  their  likeness  to  their  por- 
traits .^  A  picture  known  to  St.  Ambrose  pretended 
to  have  come  down  by  regular  tradition  from  their 
time  ;  and  Chrysostom,  when  he  studied  the  writings, 
gazed  with  reverence  on  what  he  supposed  an  authentic 
likeness  of  the  apostle.^  Paul  and  Peter  appear  on 
many  of  the  oldest  monuments,  on  the  glass  vessels, 
fragments  of  which  have  been  discovered,  and  on 
which  Jerome  informs  us  that  they  were  frequently 
painted.  They  are  found,  as  we  have  seen,  on  the 
sarcophagus  of  Junius  Bassus,  and  on  many  others. 
In  one  of  these,  in  which  the  costume  is  Roman,  St. 
Paul  is  represented  bald,  and  with  the  high  nose,  as 

1  Compare  Raoul  Rochette,  page  35.  M.  R.  Rochette  observes  much  sim- 
ilarity between  the  pictures  of  the  Virgin  ascribed  to  St.  Luke,  the  tradition 
of  whose  painting  ascends  to  the  sixth  century,  and  the  Egyptian  works 
which  represent  Isis  nursing  Horus.  I  have  not  thought  it  necessary  to  notice 
further  these  palpable  forgeries,  though  the  object,  in  so  many  places,  of  pop- 
ular worship. 

2  St.  Augustin  in  Genesin,  cap.  xxii.  "  Quod  pluribus  locis  simul  eos 
(apostolos)  cum  illo  (Christo)  pictos  viderint  ...  in  pictis  parietibus."  — 
Augustin.  de  Cons.  Evang.  i.  16. 

8  Hadrian  I.  Epist.  ad  Imp.  Constantin.  et  Iren.  Concil.  Nic.  ii.  art.  2. 
4  These  two  assertions  rest  on  the  authority  of  Joannes  Damasccnus,  de 
Imagm. 


Chap.  IV.  MAETYRDOM  NOT  REPRESENTED.  401 

he  is  described  in  the  Philopatris,^  which,  whatever  its 
age,  has  evidently  taken  these  personal  peculiarities 
of  the  apostle  from  the  popular  Christian  representa- 
tions. St.  Peter  has  usually  a  single  tuft  of  hair  on 
his  bald  forehead.^  Each  has  a  book,  the  only  symbol 
of  his  apostleship.  St.  Peter  has  neither  the  sword 
nor  the  keys.  In  the  same  relief,  St.  John  and  St. 
James  are  distinguished  from  the  rest  by  their  youth : 
already,  therefore,  this  peculiarity  was  established 
which  prevails  throughout  Christian  art.  The  majesty 
of  age,  and  a  kind  of  dignity  of  precedence,  are  at- 
tributed to  Peter  and  Paul,  while  all  the  grace  of 
youth,  and  the  most  exquisite  gentleness,  are  centred 
in  John.  They  seem  to  have  assumed  this  peculiar 
character  of  expression,  even  before  their  distinctive 
symbols. 

It  may  excite  surprise,  that  the  acts  of  martyrdom 
did  not  become  the  subjects  of  Christian  art.  Martyrdom 
till  far  down  in  the  dark  ages.     That  of  St.  sented. 
Sebastian,  a  relief  in  terra-cotta,  which  formerly  existed 
in  the  cemetery  of  St.  Priscilla,  and  that  of  Peter  and 
Paul  in  the  Basilica  Siciniana,  assigned  by  Ciampini 
to  the  fifth   century,  are   rare  exceptions,  and  both 
of  doubtful  date  and  authenticity.     The  martyrdom  of 
St.  Felicitas  and  her   seven   children,  discovered  in, 
1812,  in  a  small  oratory  within  the  baths  of  Titus, 
cannot  be  earlier,  according  to  M.  R.  Roche tte,  than 
the  seventh  century.^ 

The  absence  of  all  gloomy  or  distressing  subjects 
is  the  remarkable  and  characteristic  feature   in   the 

1  VaXiTialo^  avatpaTiavria^  im^^tvog.  —  Philop.  c  xii. 

■  Munter  says  the  arrest  of  St.  Peter  (Acts.  xii.  1,  3)  is  the  only  subject 
from  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles  among  the  monuments  in  the  catacombs.  — 
ii.  p.  104. 

8  Raoul  Rochette,  in  M^m.  de  1' Academic,  torn.  xiii.  p.  165. 

YOL.  III.  26 


402  MARTYEDOM  NOT  REPRESENTED.  Book  IY. 

catacombs  of  Rome  and  in  all  the  earliest  Christian 
art.  A  modern  writer,  who  has  studied  the  subject 
with  profound  attention,  has  expressed  himself  in  the 
following  language :  ^  "  The  catacombs  destined  for 
the  sepulture  of  the  primitive  Christians,  for  a  long 
time  peopled  with  martyrs,  ornamented  during  times 
of  persecution,  and  under  the  dominion  of  melancholy 
thoughts  and  painful  duties,  nevertheless  everywhere 
represent  in  all  the  historic  parts  of  these  paintings 
only  what  is  noble  and  exalted,^  and  in  that  which 
constitutes  the  purely  decorative  part  only  pleasing  and 
graceful  subjects,  —  the  images  of  the  good  shepherd, 
representations  of  the  vintage,  of  the  agape  with  pas- 
toral scenes :  the  symbols  are  fruits,  flowers,  palms, 
crowns,  lambs,  doves,  in  a  word  nothing  but  what 
excites  emotions  of  joy,  innocence,  and  charity.  En- 
tirely occupied  with  the  celestial  recompense  ^hich 
awaited  them  after  the  trials  of  their  troubled  life,  and 
often  of  so  dreadful  a  death,  the  Christians  saw  in 
death,  and  even  in  execution,  only  a  way  by  v.^hich 
they  arrived  at- this  everlasting  happiness;  and,  far 
from  associating  with  this  image  that  of  the  tortures 
or  privations  which  opened  heaven  before  them,  they 
took  pleasure  in  enlivening  it  with  smiling  colors,  or 
presented  it  under  agreeable  symbols,  adorning  it  with 
flowers  and  vine  leaves  ;  for  it  is  thus  that  the  asylum 
of  death  appears  to  us  in  the  Christian  catacombs. 
There  is  no  sign  of  mourning,  no  token  of  resentment, 
no  expression  of  vengeance :  all  breathes  softness, 
benevolence,  charity."  ^ 

1  M.  D'Agincourt  says,  "  11  n'a  rencontr^  lui-mSme  dans  ces  souten-ains 
aucune  trace  de  nul  autre  tableau  (one  of  barbarian  and  late  design  had 
before  been  noticed)  repr^sentant  une  martyre."  —  Hist,  de  I'Art. 

2  "  Des  traits  hdroiques." 

8  Gregory  of  Nyssa,  however,  describes  the  heroic  acts  of  St.  Theodorus 


Chap.  IV.  THE  CRUCIFIX.  403 

It  may  seem  even  more  singular,  that  the  passion 
of  our  Lord  himself  remained  a  subject  in- 
terdicted, as  it  were  by  awful  reverence. 
The  cross,  it  has  been  said,  was  the  symbol  of  Chris- 
tianity many  centuries  before  the  crucifix.^  It  was 
rather  a  cheerful  and  consolatory  than  a  depressing 
and  melancholy  sign ;  it  was  adorned  with  flowers,  with 
crowns  and  precious  stones,  a  pledge  of  the  resurrec- 
tion, rather  than  a  memorial  of  the  passion.  The  cat- 
acombs of  Rome,  faithful  to  their  general  character, 
offer  no  instance  of  a  crucifixion,  nor  does  any  allu- 
sion to  such  a  subject  of  art  occur  in  any  early  writer. ^ 
Cardinal  Bona  gives  the  following  as  the  progress  of  the 
gradual  change :  I.  The  simple  cross.^  II.  The  cross 
with  the  lamb  at  the  foot  of  it.*  III.  Christ  clothed, 
on  the  cross,  with  hands  uplifted  in  prayer,  but  not 
nailed  to  it.  TV.  Christ  fastened  to  the  cross  with 
four  nails,  still  living,  and  with  open  eyes.     He  was 

as  painted  on  the  walls  of  a  church  dedicated  to  that  saint.  "  The  painter 
had  represented  his  sufferings,  the  forms  of  the  tyrants  like  wild  beasts.  The 
fiery  furnace,  the  death  of  the  athlete  of  Christ,  —  all  this  had  the  painter 
expressed  by  colors,  as  in  a  book,  and  adorned  the  temple  like  a  pleasant 
and  blooming  meadow.     The  dumb  walls  speak  and  edify." 

1  See,  among  other  authorities,  INIunter,  p.  77.  "  Es  ist  unmoglich  das 
alter  der  Crucifixe  genau  zu  bestimmen.  Von  dem  Ends  des  siebenten 
Jahrhunderts  kannte  die  Kn-che  sie  nicht." 

2  The  decree  of  the  Quinisextan  Council,  in  695,  is  the  clearest  proof  that 
up  to  that  period  the  Passion  had  been  usually  represented  under  a  sjinbolic 
or  allegoric  form. 

3  There  is  an  interesting  description  by  the  Cav.  de  Rossi  in  the  Spicile- 
giuni  Solemnense,  iv.  p.  505,  et  seqq.,  on  the  form  of  the  cross,  as  usually 
found  in  the  catacombs.  Before  the  begimiing  of  the  fourth  century,  the 
simple  cross  +  occurs  rarely,  if  at  all.  It  is  "  dissembled,"  according  to  de 
Rossi's  phrase,  in  various  ways,  as  X ,  so  as  to  be  confounded  with  the  initial 
letter  of  Christ,  and  takes  other  monogrammatic  forms.  Under  Constantine 
and  after  Constantine,  it  is  generally  the  monogram  with  the  Labarum.  See 
pp.  329,  331  at  the  bottom,  and  322. 

*  Sub  cruce  sanguinea  niveo  stat  Christus  in  agno, 
Agnus  ut  innocua  injusto  datur  hostia  letho. 

PauU.  Nolan,  Epist.  32. 


404  PAINTINGS  AT  NO  LA.  Book  IV. 

not  represented  as  dead  till  the  tenth  or  eleventh  cen- 
tury.^ There  is  some  reason  to  believe  that  the  bust 
of  the  Saviour  first  appeared  on  the  cross,  and  after- 
wards the  whole  person ;  the  head  was  at  first  erect, 
with  some  expression  of  divinity ;  by  degrees  it 
drooped  with  the  agony  of  pain,  the  face  was  wan  and 
furrowed,  and  death  with  all  its  anguish,  was  imitated 
by  the  utmost  power  of  coarse  art,  —  mere  corporeal 
suffering  without  sublimity,  all  that  was  painful  in 
truth,  with  nothing  that  was  tender  and  affecting. 
This  change  took  place  among  the  monkish  artists  of 
the  Lower  Empire.  Those  of  the  order  of  St.  Basil 
introduced  it  into  the  West ;  and,  from  that  time, 
these  painful  images,  with  those  of  martyrdom,  and 
every  scene  of  suffering  which  could  be  imagined  by 
the  gloomy  fancy  of  anchorites,  who  could  not  be 
moved  by  less  violent  excitement,  spread  throughout 
Christendom.  It  required  all  the  wonderful  magic  of 
Italian  art  to  elevate  them  into  sublimity. 

But  early  Christian  art,  at  least  that  of  painting, 
was  not  content  with  these  simpler  subjects :  it  en- 
deavored to  represent  designs  of  far  bolder  and  more 
Paintings    intricate  character.     Among  the  earliest  de- 
atNoia.     scriptions  of  Christian  painting  is  that  in  the 
Church  of  St.  Felix,  by  Paulinus  of  Nola.^     In  the 

1  De  cruce  Vaticana. 

2  The  lines  are  not  without  merit:  — 

Quo  duce  Jordanes  suspenso  gurgite  fixis 
Fluctibus,  a  facie  divinse  restitit  arcae. 
Yis  nova  divisit  flumen  ;  pars  amne  recluse 
Constitit,  et  fluvii  pars  in  mare  lapsa  cucurrit, 
Destituitque  vadum :  et  validus  qui  forte  ruebat 
Impetus,  adstrictas  alte  cumulaverat  undas. 
Et  tremuia  compage  minax  pendebat  aquse  mens 
Despectans  transire  pedes  areute  profundo  ; 
Et  medio  pedibus  siccis  in  flumine  ferri 
Pulverulenta  hominum  duro  vestigia  limo. 

If  this  description  is  drawn  from  the  picture,  not  from  the  book,  the  pamter 


C  H,^.  IV.  PAINTINGS  AT  NOLA.  405 

colonnades  of  that  church  were  painted  scenes  from 
the  Old  Testament :  among  them  were  the  Passage 
of  the  Red  Sea ;  Joshua  and  the  Ark  of  God ;  Ruth 
and  her  Sister-in-law,  one  deserting,  the  other  following 
her  parent  in  fond  fidelity ,i  —  an  emblem,  the  poet 
suggests,  of  mankind,  part  deserting,  part  adhering 
to  the  true  faith.  The  object  of  this  embellishment 
of  the  churches  was  to  beguile  the  rude  minds  of  the 
illiterate  peasants  who  thronged  with  no  very  exalted 
motives  to  the  altar  of  St.  Felix,  —  to  pre-occupy  their 
minds  with  sacred  subjects,  so  that  they  might  be  less 
eager  for  the  festival  banquets,  held,  with  such  munifi- 
cence and  with  such  a  concourse  of  strangers,  at  the 
tomb  of  the   martyr.^     These   gross   and   irreligious 

must  have  possessed  some  talent  for  composition  and  for  landscape,  as  well 
as  for  the  drawing  of  figures. 

1  Quum  geminae  scindunt  sese  in  diversa  eorores :  — 
Ruth  sequitur  sanctam,  quam  deserit  Orpa,  parentem ; 
Perfidiam  nurus  una,  fidem  nurus  altera  monstrat. 
Praefert  una  Deum  patriae  patriam  altera  vitee. 

2  Forte  requiratur,  quanam  rations  gerendi 
Sederit  hiec  nobis  sententia,  pingere  sanctas 
Raro  more  domos  aniniantibus  adsimulatis. 

.  .  .  turba  frequentior  hie  est 
Rusticitas  uon  casta  fide,  neque  docta  legend!. 
Haec  adsueta  dia  sacris  servire  profanis, 
Ventre  Deo,  tandem  convertitur  ad  vena  Ciiristo, 
Dum  sanctorum  opera  in  Christo  miratur  aperta 
Propterea  visum  nobis  opus  utile,  totis 
Felicis  domibus  picturi  iUudere  sancta  : 
Si  forte  attonitas  haec  per  spectacula  mentes 
Agrestum  caperet  fucata  coloribus  umbra, 
Quas  super  exprimitur  Uteris  —  ut  littera  monstret 
Quod  manus  explicuit :  dumque  omnes  picta  vicissim 
Ostendunt  releguntque  sibi,  vel  tardius  escae 
Sunt  memores,  dum  grata  oculis  jejunia  pascunt : 
Atque  ita  se  meUor  stupefactis  inserat  usus, 
Dum  fallit  pictura  famem  ;  sanctasque  legenti 
Historias  castorum  operum  subrepit  honestas 
Exemplis  inducta  piis  ;  potatur  hianti 
Sobrietas,  nimii  subeunt  oblivia  vini  : 
Dumque  diem  ducunt  spatio  majore  tuentes, 
Pocula  rarescunt.  quia  per  mirantia  tracto 
Tempore,  jam  paucae  superant  epulantibus  horae. 

lu  Natal.  FeUc,  Poema  xxiv. 


406  MUSIC  Book  IV. 

desires  led  them  to  the  church :  yet,  gazing  on  these 
pictures,  they  would  not  merely  be  awakened  by 
these  holy  examples  to  purer  thoughts  and  holier 
emotions ;  they  would  feast  their  eyes  instead  of  their 
baser  appetites ;  an  involuntary  sobriety  and  forgetful- 
ness  of  the  wine-flagon  would  steal  over  their  souls ; 
at  all  events,  they  would  have  less  time  to  waste  in 
the  indulgence  of  their  looser  festivity. 

Christianity  has  been  the  parent  of  music,  probably 
as  far  surpassing  in  skill  and  magnificence 
the  compositions  of  earlier  times,  as  the 
cathedral  organ  the  simpler  instruments  of  the  Jewish 
or  Pagan  religious  worship.  But  this  perfection  of 
the  art  belongs  to  a  much  later  period  in  Christian 
history.  Like  the  rest  of  its  service,  the  music  of  the 
Church  no  doubt  gi^ew  up  from  a  rude  and  simple,  to 
a  more  splendid  and  artificial  form.  The  practice  of 
singing  hymns  is  co-eval  with  Christianity  ;  the  hearers 
of  the  apostles  sang  the  praises  of  God  ;  and  the  first 
sound  which  reached  the  Pagan  ear  from  the  secluded 
sanctuaries  of  Christianity  was  the  hymn  to  Christ  as 
God.^  The  Church  succeeded  to  an  inheritance  of 
religious  lyrics  as  unrivalled  in  the  history  of  poetry 
as  of  religion .2  The  Psalms  were  introduced  early 
into  the  public  service  ;  but  at  first,  apparently,  though 
some  psalms  may  have  been  sung  on  appropriate 
occasions,  —  the  73d,  called  the  morning,  and  the 
141st,  the  evening  psalm,  —  the  whole  Psalter  was 
introduced  only  as  part  of  the  Old  Testament,  and 
read  in  the  course  of  the  service.^     With  the  poetry 

1  See  the  famous  Epistle  of  Pliny. 

2  The  Temple  Service,  in  Lightfoot's  Works,  gives  the  Psalms  which 
were  appropriate  to  each  day.  The  author  has  given  a  slight  outline  of  this 
hymnology  of  the  Temple  in  the  Quarterly  Review,  xxxviii.  p.  20. 

8  Bingham's  Antiquities,  vol.  xiv.  1,  5. 


Chap.  IV.  MUSIC.  407 

did  they  borrow  the  music  of  the  synagogue?  Was 
this  music  the  same  which  had  filled  the  spacious 
courts  of  the  Temple,  perhaps  answered  to  those  sad 
strahis  which  had  been  heard  beside  the  waters  of  the 
Euplu^ates,  or  even  descended  from  still  earlier  times 
of  glory,  wdien  Deborah  or  when  Miriam  struck  their 
timbrels  to  the  praise  of  God  ?  This  question  it  must 
be  impossible  to  answer  ;  and  no  tradition,  as  far  as  I 
am  aware,  indicates  the  source  from  which  the  Church 
borrowed  her  primitive  harmonies,  though  the  proba- 
bility is  certainly  in  favor  of  their  Jewish  parentage. 

The  Christian  hymns  of  the  primitive  churches  seem 
to  have  been  eucharistic,  and  confined  to  the  glorifica- 
tion of  their  God  and  Saviour.^  Prayer  was  consid- 
ered the  language  of  supplication  and  humiliation ; 
the  soul  awoke,  as  it  were,  in  the  hymn  to  more  ardent 
expressions  of  gratitude  and  love.  Probably,  the 
music  was  nothing  more  at  first  than  a  very  simple 
accompaniment,  or  no  more  than  the  accordance  of 
the  harmonious  voices :  it  was  the  humble  subsidiary 
of  the  hymn  of  praise,  not  itself  the  soul-engrossing 
art. 2  Nothing  could  be  more  simple  than  the  earliest 
recorded  hymns  :  they  were  fragments  from  the  Scrip- 
ture,—  the  doxology,  "Glory  be  to  the  Father,  and 
to  the  Son,  and  to  the  Holy  Ghost!"  the  angelic 
hymn,  "Glory  be  to  God  on  high!"  the  cherubic 
hymn  from  Rev.  iv.  12,  '  Holy,  holy,  holy !  "  the  hymn 
of  victory,  Rev.  xv.  3,  "  Great  and  marvellous  are 
thy  works."  It  was  not  improbably  the  cherubic 
hymn,  to  which  Pliny  alludes,  as  forming  part  of  the 
Christian  worship.     The  "Magnificat"  and  the  "Nunc 

1  Gregory  of  Nyssa  defines  a  hynin  —  iifivoc  earlv  t]  km  rolg  vTrapxovmv 
rifuv  ayadolc;  dvaTide/ievT]  rcb  Qe^  ev(j)7]fiia.  —  See  Ps.  ii. 

2  Private  individuals  wrote  hymns  to  Christ,  which  were  gf/nerally  sung. — 
Euseb.,  H.  E.  V.  28;  vii.  24. 


408  MUSIC.  Book  IV. 

dimittis"  were  likewise  sung  from  the  earliest  ages; 
the  Halleliiia  was  the  constant  prelude  or  burden  of 
the  hymn.i  Of  the  character  of  the  music  few  and 
imperfect  traces  are  found.  In  Egypt  the  simplest 
form  long  prevailed.  In  the  monastic  establishments, 
one  person  arose,  and  repeated  the  psalm ;  the  others 
sat  around  in  silence  on  their  lowly  seats,  and  re- 
sponded, as  it  were,  to  the  psalm  within  their  hearts.^ 
In  Alexandria,  by  the  order  of  Athanasius,  the  psalms 
were  repeated  with  the  slightest  possible  inflection  of 
voice  :  it  could  hardly  be  called  singing.^  Yet,  though 
the  severe  mind  of  Athanasius  might  disdain  such 
subsidiaries,  the  power  of  music  was  felt  to  be  a  dan- 
gerous antagonist  in  the  great  religious  contest.  Al- 
ready the  soft  and  effeminate  singing,  begun  by  Paul 
of  Samosata,  had  estranged  the  hearts  of  many  wor- 
shippers ;  and  his  peculiar  doctrines  had  stolen  into 
the  soul,  which  had  been  melted  by  the  artificial 
melodies  introduced  by  him  into  the  service.  The 
Gnostic  hymns  of  Bardesanes  and  Valentinus,*  no 
doubt,  had  their  musical  accompaniment.  Arius  him- 
self had  composed  hymns  which  were  sung  to  popular 
airs ;  and  the  streets  of  Constantinople,  even  to  the 
time  of  Chrysostom,  echoed  at  night  to  those  seduc- 
tive strains  which  denied  or  imperfectly  expressed  the 

1  Alleluia  novis  balat  ovile  choris. 

Paulin.  Epist.  ad  Sev.  12. 
Curvorum  hinc  chorus  helciariorum, 
Responsantibus  Alleluia  rlpis, 
Ad  Christum  levat  amnicum  celeusma. 

Sid.  ApoU.  lib.  ii.  ep.  10. 

2  "  Absque  eo  qui  dicturus  in  medium  Psalraos  surrexerit,  cuncti  sedilibus 
humillimis  insidentes,  ad  vocem  psallentis  omni  cordis  intencione  dependent." 
—  Cassian.  Instit.  ii.  1,  2.  Compare  Euseb.,  H.  E.  ii.  17 ;  Apostol.  Constit. 
H.  E.  ii.  17;  Apostol.  Constit.  xx.  57. 

8  "  Tam  raodico  flexu  vocis  faciebat  sonare  lectorem  Psalmi,  ut  pronun- 
cianti  vicinior  esset  quam  canenti."  —  August.  Confess,  x.  33. 

4  Tertull.  de  Cam.  Christi,  17. 


Chap.  IV.  MUSIC.  409 

Trinitarian  doctrines.  Chrysostom  arrayed  a  band  of 
orthodox  choristers,  who  hymned  the  co-equal  Father, 
Son,  and  Holy  Ghost.  The  Donatists  in  Africa 
adapted  their  enthusiastic  hymns  to  wild  and  passion- 
ate melodies,  which  tended  to  keep  up  and  inflame,  as 
it  were,  with  the  sound  of  the  trumpet,  the  fanaticism 
of  their  followers.^ 

The  first  change  in  the  manner  of  singing  was  the 
substitution  of  singers ,2  who  became  a  separate  order 
in  the  Church,  for  the  mingled  voices  of  all  ranks,  ages, 
and'  sexes,  which  was  compared  by  the  great  reformei 
of  church  music  to  the  glad  sound  of  many  waters.^ 

The  antiphonal  singing,  in  which  the  different  sides 
of  the  choir  answered  to  each  other  in  responsive 
verses,  was  first  introduced  at  Antioch  by  Flavianus 
and  Diodorus.  Though,  from  the  form  of  some  of 
the  psalms,  it  is  not  improbable  that  this  system  of 
alternate  chanting  may  have  prevailed  in  the  Temple 
service,  yet  the  place  and  the  period  of  its  appearance 
in  the  Christian  Church  seems  to  indicate  a  different 
source.  The  strong  resemblance  which  it  bears  to  the 
chorus  of  the  Greek  tragedy  might  induce  a  suspicion, 
that,  as  it  borrowed  its  simple  primitive  music  from 
Judaism,  it  may,  in  turn,  have  despoiled  Paganism  of 
some  of  its  lofty  religious  harmonies. 

This  antiphonal  chanting  was  introduced  into  the 
West*  by  Ambrose ;  and  if  it  inspired,  or  even  fully 

1  "  Donatistse  nos  reprehendunt,  quod  sobrie  psallimus  in  ecclesia  divina 
cantica  Prophetarum,  cum  ipsi  ebrietates  suas  ad  canticum  psalmorum  hu- 
mano  ingenio  compositorum  quasi  tubas  exhortationis  inflammant."* — Au- 
gustin.  Confess. 

2  Compare  Bingham.    The  leaders  were  called  v-Kofiolelg. 

3  "  Responsoriis  psalmorum,  cantu  mulierum,  virginum,  parvularum  con- 
sonans  undarum  fragor  resultat."  —  Ambros.,  Hexsem.  1.  iii.  c  5. 

4  Augustin.  Confess,  ix.  7,  1.  How,  indeed,  could  it  be  rejected,  when  it 
had  received  the  authority  of  a  vision  of  the  blessed  Ignatius,  who  was  said 


410  MUSIC.  Book  IV. 

accompanied,  the  Te  Deum,  usually  ascribed  to  that 
prelate,  we  cannot  calculate  too  higlily  its  effect  upon 
the  Christian  mind.  So  beautiful  was  the  music  in 
the  Ambrosian  service,  that  the  sensitive  conscience 
of  the  young  Augustine  took  alarm,  lest,  when  he 
wept  at  the  solemn  music,  he  should  be  yielding  to 
the  luxury  of  sweet  sounds,  rather  than  imbi'oing 
the  devotional  spirit  of  the  hymn.^  Though  alive 
to  the  perilous  pleasure,  yet  he  inclined  to  the  wisdom 
of  awakening  weaker  minds  to  piety  by  this  enchant- 
ment of  their  hearing.  The  Ambrosian  chant,  with 
its  more  simple  and  masculine  tones,  is  still  preserved 
in  the  Church  of  Milan :  in  the  rest  of  Italy,  it  was 
superseded  by  tlie  richer  Roman  chant,  which  was 
introduced  by  the  Pope,  Gregory  the  Great.^ 

to  have  heard  the  angels  singing  in  the  antiphonal  manner  the  praises  of  the 
Holy  Trinity  ?  —  Socr.,  H.  E.  vi.  8. 

1  "  Cum  reminiscor  lachrymas  meas  quas  fudi  ad  cantus  ecclesiaj  tuie,  in 
primordiis  recuperatai  fidei  mea3,  et  nunc  ipsum  cum  moveor,  non  cantu  sed 
rebus  quae  cantantur,  cum  liquida  voce  et  convenientissima  modulatione  can- 
tan  tur:  magnam  instituti  hujus  utilitatem  rursus  agnosco.  Ita  fluctuo  inter 
periculum  voluptatis  et  experimentum  salubritatis ;  magisque  adducor,  non 
quidem  irretractabilem  sententiam  proferens  cantandi  consuetudinem  appre- 
bare  in  ecclesia :  ut  per  oblectamenta  aurium,  infirmior  animus  in  aftectum 
pietatis  assurgat."  —  Augustin.  Confess,  x.  33,  3.     Compare  ix.  7,  2. 

^  The  cathedral  chanting  of  England  has  probably  almost  alone  preserved 
the  ancient  antiphonal  system,  which  has  been  discarded  for  a  greater  variety 
of  instruments,  and  a  more  complicated  system  of  music,  in  the  Roman  Catho- 
lic service.  This,  if  I  may  presume  to  ofl'er  a  judgment,  has  lost  as  much  in 
solemnity  and  majesty  as  it  has  gained  in  richness  and  variety.  "  Ce  chant 
(le  Plain  Chant)  tel  qu'il  subsiste  encore  aujourd'hui  est  un  reste  bien  defig- 
nr^,  mais  bien  precieux  de  I'ancienne  musique,  qui  apres  avoir  passe  par  la 
main  des  barbares  n'a  pas  perdu  encore  toutes  ses  premieres  beaut^s."  —  JVIil- 
lin,  Dictionnaire  des  Beaux  Arts. 


Chap.  V  RELIGION  OF  THE  ROI^IAN  WORLD.  411 


CHAPTER  V. 

Conclusion. 

Thus,  then,  Christianity  had  become  the  religion  of  the 
Roman  world :  it  had  not,  indeed,  confined  its  adven- 
turous spirit  of  moral  conquest  within  these  limits  ;  yet 
it  is  in  the  Roman  world  tliat  its  more  extensive  and 
permanent  influence,  as  well  as  its  peculiar  vicissi- 
tudes, can  alone  be  followed  out  with  distinctness  and 
accuracy. 

Paganism  was  slowly  expiring ;  the  hostile  edicts  of 
the  emperors,  down  to  the  final  legislation  of  Justinian, 
did  but  accelerate  its  inevitable  destiny.  Its  temples, 
where  not  destroyed,  were  perishing  by  neglect  and 
peaceful  decay,  or,  where  their  solid  structures  defied 
these  less  violent  assailants,  stood  deserted  and  over- 
grown with  weeds ;  the  unpaid  priests  ceased  to  offer, 
not  only  sacrifice,  but  prayer,  and  were  gradually  dying 
out  as  a  separate  order  of  men.  Its  philosophy  lin- 
gered in  a  few  cities  of  Greece,  till  the  economy  or 
the  religion  of  the  Eastern  emperor  finally  closed  its 
schools. 

The  doom  of  the  Roman  empire  was  likewise  sealed ; 
the  horizon  on  all  sides  was  dark  with  overwhelming 
clouds ;  and  the  internal  energies  of  the  empire,  the 
military  spirit,  the  wealth,  the  imperial  power,  had 
crumbled  away.  The  external  unity  was  dissolved ; 
the  provinces  were  gradually  severed  from  the  main 
body ;   the  Western  empire  was  rapidly  sinking,  and 


4l2  RELIGION  OF  THE  ROMAN  WORLD.         Book  IV. 

the  Eastern  falling  into  hopeless  decrepitude.  Yet 
though  her  external  polity  was  dissolved,  though  her 
visible  throne  was  prostrate  upon  the  earth,  Rome 
still  ruled  the  mind  of  man,  and  her  secret  domination 
maintained  its  inilucnce,  until  it  assumed  a  new 
outward  form.  Rome  survived  in  her  laws,  in  her 
municipal  institutions,  and  in  that  which  lent  a  new 
sanctity  and  reverence  to  her  laws,  and  gave  strength 
by  their  alliance  with  its  own  peculiar  polity  to  the 
municipal  institutions,  —  in  her  adopted  religion. 
The  empire  of  Christ  succeeded  to  the  empire  of  the 
Caesars. 

When  it  ascended  the  throne,  assumed  a  supreme 
and  universal  dominion  over  mankind,  became  the 
legislator,  not  merely  through  public  statutes,  but  in 
all  the  minute  details  of  life,  discharged,  in  fact, 
almost  all  the  functions  of  civil  as  well  as  of  religious 
government,  Christianity  could  not  but  appear  under 
a  new  form,  and  wear  a  far  different  appearance  than 
when  it  was  the  humble  and  private  faith  of  a  few 
scattered  individuals,  or  of  only  spiritually  connected 
communities.  As  it  was  about  to  enter  into  its  next 
period  of  conflict  with  barbarism,  and  to  undergo  the 
temptation  of  unlimited  power,  however  it  might  depart 
from  its  primitive  simplicity,  and  indeed  recede  from 
its  genuine  spirit,  it  is  impossible  not  to  observe  how 
wonderfully  (those  who  contemplate  human  affairs 
with  religious  minds  may  assert  how  providentially) 
it  adapted  itself  to  its  altered  position,  and  the  new 
part  which  it  was  to  fulfil  in  the  history  of  man.  We 
have  already  traced  this  gradual  change  in  the  format 
tion  of  the  powerful  hierarchy,  in  the  development 
of  Monasticism,  the  establishment  of  the  splendid  and 
imposing  ritual :    we  must  turn  our  attention,  before 


Chap.V.  christian  THEOLOGY.  413 

we   close,    to   the   new   modification    of  the    religion 
itself. 

Its  theology  now  appears  wrought  out  into  a 
regular,  multifarious,  and,  as  it  were,  legally  estab- 
lished system. 

It  was  the  consummate  excellence  of  Christianity, 
that  it  blended  in  apparently  indissoluble  christian 
union  religious  and  moral  perfection.  Its  this  period. 
essential  doctrine  was,  in  its  pure  theory,  inseparable 
from  humane,  virtuous,  and  charitable  disposition. 
Piety  to  God,  as  he  was  impersonated  in  Christ, 
worked  out,  as  it  seemed,  by  spontaneous  energy,  into 
Christian  beneficence. 

But  there  has  always  been  a  strong  propensity  to 
disturb  this  nice  balance :  the  dogmatic  part  of  reli- 
gion, the  province  of  faith,  is  constantly  endeavoring 
to  set  itself  apart,  and  to  maintain  a  sej^arate  existence. 
Faith,  in  this  limited  sense,  aspires  to  be  religion. 
This,  in  general,  takes  place  soon  after  the  first  out- 
burst, the  strong  impulse  of  new  and  absorbing  reli- 
gious emotions.  At  a  later  period,  morality  attempts 
to  stand  alone,  without  the  sanction  or  support  of 
religious  faith.  One  half  of  Christianity  is  thus  per- 
petually striving  to  pass  for  the  whole,  and  to  absorb 
all  the  attention,  to  the  neglect,  to  the  disparagement 
of,  at  length  to  a  total  separation  from,  its  Heaven- 
appointed  consort.  The  multiplication  and  subtle 
refinement  of  theologic  dogmas,  the  engrossing  interest 
excited  by  some  dominant  tenet,  especially  if  asso- 
ciated with,  or  embodied  in,  a  minute  and  rigorous 
ceremonial,  tend  to  satisfy  and  lull  the  mind  into 
complacent  acquiescence  in  its  own  religious  complete- 
ness. But  directly  religion  began  to  consider  itself 
something  apart,  something  exclusively  dogmatic  or 


414  CHEISTIAN  FAITH  AND  MORALS.  Book  IV. 

exclusively  ceremonial,  an  acceptance  of  certain  truths 
Separation  bj  tlic  belief,  or  the  discharge  of  certain 
faith  rnd"""  ritual  observances,  then  the  transition  from 
morals  scparatiou  to  hostility  was  rapid  and  unim- 

peded. No  sooner  had  Christianity  divorced  morality 
as  its  inseparable  companion  through  life,  than  it 
formed  an  unlawful  connection  with  any  dominant 
passion ;  gtnd  tlie  strange  and  unnatural  union  of 
Christian  faith  with  ambition,  avarice,  cruelty,  fraud, 
and  even  license,  appeared  in  strong  contrast  with  its 
primitive  harmony  of  doctrine  and  inward  disposition. 
Thus  in  a  great  degree,  while  the  Roman  world  be- 
came Christian  in  outward  worship  and  in  faith,  it 
remained  Heathen,  or  even  at  some  periods  worse  than 
Heathenism  in  its  better  times,  as  to  beneficence, 
gentleness,  purity,  social  virtue,  humanity,  and  peace. 
This  extreme  view  may  appear  to  be  justified  by  the 
general  survey  of  Christian  society.  Yet,  in  fact, 
religion  did  not,  except  at  the  darkest  periods, 
complete.  gQ  Completely  insulate  itself,  or  so  entirely 
recede  from  its  natural  alliance  with  morality  ;  though 
it  admitted,  at  each  of  its  periods,  much  which  was 
irreconcilable  with  its  pure  and  original  spirit.  Hence 
the  mingled  character  of  its  social  and  political,  as 
well  as  of  its  personal  influences.  The  union  of  Chris- 
tianity with  monachism,  with  sacerdotal  domination, 
with  the  military  spirit,  with  the  spiritual  autocracy 
of  the  papacy,  with  the  advancement  at  one  time,  at 
another  with  the  repression,  of  the  human  mind,  had 
each  their  darker  and  brighter  side ;  and  were  in  suc- 
cession (however  they  departed  from  the  primal  and 
ideal  perfection  of  Christianity)  to  a  certain  extent 
beneficial,  because  apparently  almost  necessary  to  the 
social   and   intellectual   development   of  mankind   at 


Chap.  V.        CHRISTIAN  FEELINGS  NEVER  EXTINCT.  415 

each  particular  juncture.  So,  for  instance,  military 
Christianity,  which  grew  out  of  the  inevitable  incor- 
poration  of  the  force  and  energy  of  the  barbarian 
conquerors  with  the  sentiments  and  feelings  of  that 
age,  and  which  finally  produced  chivalry,  was,  in  fact, 
the  substitution  of  inhumanity  for  Ciiristian  gentle- 
ness, of  the  love  of  glory  for  the  love  of  peace.  Yet 
was  this  indispensable  to  the  preservation  of  Chris- 
tianity in  its  contest  with  its  new  Eastern  antagonist. 
Unwarlike  Christianity  would  have  been  trampled 
under  foot,  and  have  been  in  danger  of  total  extermi- 
nation, by  triumphant  Mohammedanism. 

Yet,  even  when  its  prevailing  character  thus  stood 
in  the  most  direct  contrast  with  the  spirit  of  christian 
the  Gospel,  it  was  not  merely  that  the  creed  ^e""P 
of  Christianity  in  its  primary  articles  was  ^^^^''''^' 
universally  accepted,  and  a  profound  devotion  filled 
the  Christian  mind :  there  was  likewise  a  constant 
under-growth,  as  it  were,  of  Christian  feelings,  and 
even  of  Christian  virtues.  Nothing  could  contrast 
more  strangely,  for  instance,  than  St.  Louis  slaughter- 
ing Saracens  and  heretics  with  his  remorseless  sword, 
and  the  Saviour  of  mankind  by  the  Lake  of  Galilee ; 
yet,  when  this  dominant  spirit  of  the  age  did  not  pre- 
occupy the  whole  soul,  the  self-denial,  the  justice,  the 
purity,  even  the  gentleness,  of  such  a  man  as  St.  Louis 
bore  still  unanswerable  testimony  to  the  genuine 
influence  of  Christianity.  Our  illustration  has  carried 
us  far  beyond  the  boundaries  of  our  history ;  but 
already  the  great  characteristic  distinction  of  later 
Christian  history  had  begun  to  be  developed,  —  the 
severance  of  Christian  faith  from  Christian  love,  the 
passionate  attachment,  the  stern  and  remorseless 
maintenance  of  the  Christian  creed  without  or  with 


416  CHRISTIAN  FEELINGS  NEVER  EXTINCT.       Book  IV. 

only  a  partial  practice  of  Christian  virtue,  or  even  the 
predominance  of  a  tone  of  mind,  in  some  respects 
absolutely  inconsistent  with  genuine  Christianity. 
While  the  human  mind,  in  general,  became  more 
rigid  in  exacting,  and  more  timid  in  departing  from, 
the  admitted  doctrines  of  the  Church,  the  moral  sense 
became  more  dull  and  obtuse  to  the  purer  and  more 
evanescent  beauty  of  Christian  holiness.  In  trutli,  it 
was  so  much  more  easy,  in  a  dark  and  unreasoning 
age,  to  subscribe,  or  at  least  to  render  passive  sub- 
mission to,  certain  defined  doctrines,  than  to  work  out 
those  doctrines  in  their  proper  influences  upon  the 
life,  that  we  deplore,  rather  than  wonder  at,  this  sub- 
stitution of  one  half  of  the  Christian  religion  for  the 
whole.  Nor  are  we  astonished  to  find  those,  who  were 
constantly  violating  the  primary  principles  of  Chris- 
tianity, fiercely  resenting,  and,  if  they  had  the  power, 
relentlessly  avenging,  any  violation  of  the  integrity  of 
Christian  faith.  Heresy  of  opinion,  we  have  seen, 
became  almost  the  only  crime  against  which  excom- 
munication pointed  its  thunders.  The  darker  and  more 
baleful  heresy  of  unchristian  passions,  which  assumed 
the  language  of  Christianity,  was  either  too  general  to 
be  detected,  or  at  best  encountered  with  feeble  and 
impotent  remonstrance.  Thus  Christianity  became  at 
the  same  time  more  peremptorily  dogmatic,  and  less 
influential ;  it  assumed  the  supreme  dominion  over  the 
mind,  while  it  held  but  an  imperfect  and  partial  con- 
trol over  the  passions  and  aflections.  The  theology  of 
the  Gospel  was  the  religion  of  the  world;  the  spirit 
of  the  Gospel,  very  far  from  the  ruling  influence  of 
mankind. 

Yet  even  the  theology  maintained  its  dominion,  by 
in  some  degree  accommodating  itself  to  the  human 


Chap.  V.  I^IYTHIC  AGE  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  417 

mind.     It  became  to  a  certain  degree  mytJiic  in  its 
character,  and  polytheistic  in  its  form. 

Now  had  commenced  what  may  be  called,  neither 
unreasonably  nor  unwarrantably,  the  mythic  Mytwcage 
age  of  Christianity.  As  Christianity  worked  tianity. 
downward  into  the  lower  classes  of  society,  as  it  re- 
ceived the  rude  and  ignorant  barbarians  within  its  pale, 
the  general  effect  could  not  but  be,  that  the  age  would 
drag  down  the  religion  to  its  level,  rather  than  the  re- 
ligion elevate  the  age  to  its  own  lofty  standard. 

The  connection  between  the  world  of  man  and  a 
higher  order  of  things  had  been  re-established  ;  the 
approximation  of  the  Godhead  to  the  human  race, 
the  actual  presence  of  the  Incarnate  Deity  upon  earth, 
was  universally  recognized  ;  transcendental  truths,  be- 
yond the  sphere  of  human  reason,  had  become  the 
primary  and  elemental  principles  of  human  belief.  A 
strongly  imaginative  period  was  the  necessary  conse- 
quence of  this  extraordinary  impulse.  It 
was  the  reigii  of  faith,  —  of  faith  which  saw 
or  felt  the  divine,  or  at  least  supernatural,  agency, 
in  every  occurrence  of  life,  and  in  every  impulse  of  the 
heart ;  which  offered  itself  as  the  fearless  and  undoubt- 
ing  interpreter  of  every  event;  which  comprehended 
in  its  domain  the  past,  the  present,  and  the  future  ; 
and  seized  upon  the  whole  range  of  human  thought 
and  knowledge,  upon  history,  and  even  natural  philo- 
sophy, as  its  own  patrimony. 

This  was  not,  it  could  not  be,  that  more  sublime  the- 
ology of  a  rational  and  intellectual  Christianity  ;  that 
theology  which  expands  itself  as  the  system  of  the 
universe  expands  upon  the  mind ;  and  from  its  wider 
acquaintance  with  the  wonderful  provisions,  the  more 
manifest  and  all-provident  forethought  of  the  Deity, 
VOL.  III.  27 


418  i'AITH.  Book  IV. 

acknowledges  with  more  awe-struck  and  admiring, 
yet  not  less  fervent  and  grateful,  homage  the  benefi- 
cence of  the  Creator ;  that  Christian  theology  which 
reverentially  traces  the  benignant  providence  of  God 
over  the  affairs  of  men,  —  the  all-ruling  Father,  —  the 
Kedeemer  revealed  at  the  appointed  time,  and  pub- 
lishing the  code  of  reconciliation,  holiness,  peace,  and 
everlasting  life,  —  the  Universal  Spirit,  with  its  myste- 
rious and  confessed  but  untraceable  energy,  pervading 
the  kindred  spiritual  part  of  man.  The  Christian  of 
those  days  lived  in  a  supernatural  world,  or  in  a  world 
under  the  constant  and  felt  and  discernible  interference 
of  supernatural  power.  God  was  not  only  present, 
but  asserting  his  presence  at  every  instant,  not  merely 
on  signal  occasions  and  for  important  purposes,  but  on 
the  most  insignificant  acts  and  persons.  The  course 
of  nature  was  beheld,  not  as  one  great  uniform  and 
majestic  miracle,  but  as  a  succession  of  small,  insu- 
lated, sometimes  trivial,  sometimes  contradictory  in- 
terpositions, often  utterly  inconsistent  with  the  moral 
and  Christian  attributes  of  God.  The  divine  power  and 
goodness  were  not  spreading  abroad  like  a  genial  and 
equable  sunlight,  enlightening,  cheering,  vivifying,  but 
breaking  out  in  partial  and  visible  flashes  of  influence. 
Each  incident  was  a  special  miracle,  the  ordinary 
emotion  of  the  heart  was  divine  inspiration.  Every 
individual  had  not  merely  his  portion  in  the  common 
diffusion  of  religious  and  moral  knowledge  or  feeling, 
but  looked  for  his  peculiar  and  especial  share  in  the 
divine  blessing.  His  dreams  came  direct  from  heaven  ; 
a  new  system  of  Christian  omens  succeeded  the  old ; 
witchcraft  merely  invoked  Beelzebub  or  Satan  instead 
of  Hecate  ;  hallowed  places  only  changed  their  tutelary 
nymph  or  genius  for  a  saint  or  martyr. 


Chap.  V.  IMAGINATIVE   STATE  OF  THE  MIND.  419 

It  is  not  less  unjust  to  stigmatize  in  the  mass  as 
fraud,  or  to  condemn  as  the  weakness  of  su- 
perstition, than  it  is  to  enforce  as  an  essen-  state  of  the 

•    ,  r»    /-ii      •      •        •  1  1   •    1  human  mind. 

tial  part  oi  Christianity,  that  which  was  the 
necessary  development  of  this  state  of  the  human 
miiid.  The  case  was  this  :  the  mind  of  man  had  before 
it  a  recent  and  wonderful  revelation,  in  which  it  could 
not  but  acknowledge  the  divine  interposition.  God  had 
been  brought  down,  or  had  condescended  to  mingle 
himself  with  the  affairs  of  men.  But  where  should 
that  faith,  which  could  not  but  receive  these  high  and 
consolatory  and  reasonable  truths,  set  limits  to  the 
agency  of  this  beneficent  power  ?  How  should  it  dis- 
criminate between  that  which  ^  in  its  apparent  discrep- 
ancy with  the  laws  of  nature  (and  of  those  laws  how 
little  was  known ! )  was  miraculous,  and  that  which, 
to  more  accurate  observation,  was  only  strange  or 
wonderful,  or  perhaps  the  result  of  ordinary  but  dimly 
seen  causes  ?  —  how  still  more  in  the  mysterious  world 
of  the  human  mind,  of  which  the  laws  are  still,  we 
will  not  say  in  their  primitive,  but  in  comparison  with 
those  of  external  nature,  in  profound  obscurity  ?  If 
the  understanding  of  man  was  too  much  dazzled  to 
see  clearly  even  material  objects ;  if,  just  awakening 
from  a  deep  trance,  it  beheld  every  thing  floating  before 
it  in  a  mist  of  wonder,  —  how  much  more  was  the 
mind  disqualified  to  judge  of  its  own  emotions,  of 
the  origin,  suggestion,  and  powers  of  those  thoughts 
and  emotions,  which  still  perplex  and  baffle  our  deep- 
est metaphysics ! 

The  irresistible  current  of  man's  thoughts  and  feel- 
ings ran  all  one  way.  It  is  difficult  to  calculate  the 
effect  of  that  extraordinary  power  or  propensity  of 
the  mind  to  see  what  it  expects  to  see,  to  color  with 


420  THE  CLERGY.  Book  IV. 

the  preconceived  hue  of  its  own  opinions  and  senti- 
ments whatever  presents  itself  before  it.  Tlie  contagion 
of  emotions  or  of  passions,  which  in  vast  assemblies 
may  be  resolved,  perhaps,  into  a  physical  effect,  acts, 
it  should  seem,  in  a  more  extensive  manner ;  opinions 
and  feelings  appear  to  be  propagated  v/ith  a  kind  of 
epidemic  force  and  rapidity.  There  were  some,  no 
doubt,  who  saw  farther,  but  who  either  dared  not,  or 
did  not  care,  to  stand  across  the  torrent  of  general 
feeling.  But  the  mass,  even  of  the  strongest  minded, 
were  influenced,  no  doubt,  by  the  profound  religious 
dread  of  assuming  that  for  an  ordinary  effect  of  na- 
ture, which  might  he  a  divine  interposition.  They  were 
far  more  inclined  to  suspect  reason  of  presumption 
than  faith  of  credulity.  Where  faith  is  the  height  of 
virtue,  and  infidelity  the  depth  of  sin,  tranquil  investi- 
gation becomes  criminal  indifference ;  doubt,  guilty 
scepticism.  Of  all  charges,  men  shrink  most  sensi- 
tively, especially  in  a  religious  age,  from  that  of  irreli- 
gion,  however  made  by  the  most  ignorant  or  the  most 
presumptuous.  The  clergy,  the  great  agents 
in  the  maintenance  and  communication  of 
this  imaginative  religious  bias,  the  asserters  of  con- 
stant miracle  in  all  its  various  forms,  were  themselves, 
no  doubt,  irresistibly  carried  away  by  the  same  ten- 
dency. It  was  treason  against  their  order  and  their 
sacred  duty,  to  arrest  or  to  deaden  whatever  might 
tend  to  religious  impression.  Pledged  by  obligation, 
by  feeling,  we  may  add  by  interest,  to  advance  religion, 
most  were  blind  to,  all  closed  their  eyes  against,  tlie 
remote  consequences  of  folly  and  superstition.  A 
clergyman  who,  in  a  credulous  or  enthusiastic  age, 
dares  to  be  rationally  pious,  is  a  phenomenon  of  moral 
courage.    From  this  time  either  the  charge  of  irreligion. 


Chap.v.  religious  impkessions.  421 

or  the  not  less  dreadful  and  fatal  suspicion  of  heresy 
or  magic,  was  the  penalty  to  be  paid  for  the  glorious 
privilege  of  superiority  to  the  age  in  which  the  man 
lived,  or  of  the  attainment  to  a  higher  and  more  rea- 
sonable theology. 

The  desire  of  producing  religious  impression  was,  in 
a  great  degree,  the  fertile  parent  of  all  the  Reu^ioug 
wild  inventions  which  already  began  to  be  "^p>^essions. 
grafted  on  the  simple  creed  of  Christianity.  That 
which  was  employed  avowedly  with  this  end  in  one 
generation,  became  the  popular  belief  of  the  next.  The 
full  growth  of  all  this  religious  poetry  (for,  though  not 
in  form,  it  was  poetical  in  its  essence)  belongs  to,  and 
must  be  reserved  for,  a  later  period.  Christian  history 
would  be  incomplete  without  that  of  Christian  popular 
superstition. 

But  though  religion,  and  religion  in  this  peculiar 
form,  had  thus  swallowed  up  all  other  pursuits  and 
sentiments,  it  cannot  indeed  be  said,  that  this  new 
mythic  or  imaginative  period  of  the  world  suppressed 
the  development  of  any  strong  intellectual  energy,  or 
arrested  the  progress  of  real  knowledge  and  improve- 
ment. This,  even  if  commenced,  must  have  yielded 
to  the  devastating  inroads  of  barbarism.  But  in  truth, 
however  high  in  some  respects'  the  civilization  of  the 
Roman  empire  under  the  Antonines  ;  however  the  use- 
ful, mora  especially  the  mechanical,  arts  must  have 
attained,  as  their  gigantic  remains  still  prove,  a  high 
perfection  (though  degenerate  in  point  of  taste,  by 
the  colossal  solidity  of  their  structure,  the  vast  build- 
ings, the  roads,  the  aqueducts,  the  bridges,  in  every 
quarter  of  the  world,  bear  testimony  to  the  science  as 
well  as  to  the  public  spirit  of  the  age) ,  —  still  there  is 
a  remarkable  dearth,  at  this  flourishing  period,  of  great 


422  EFFECT   ON  NATURAL  PHILOSOPHY.         Book  IV 

names  in  science  and  philosophy,  as  well  as  in  litera- 
ture. ^ 

Principles  may  have  been  admitted,  and  may  have 
Effect  on  bcgun  to  take  firm  root,  through  the  authori- 
phiiosophy.  tative  writings  of  the  Christian  Fathers,  which, 
after  a  long  period,  would  prove  adverse  to  the  free 
development  of  natural,  moral,  and  intellectual  phi- 
losophy ;  and,  having  been  enshrined  for  centuries  as 
a  part  of  religious  doctrine,  would  not  easily  surrender 
their  claims  to  divine  authority,  or  be  deposed  from 
their  established  supremacy.  The  Church  condemned 
Galileo  on  the  authority  of  the  Fathers  as  much  as  of 
the  sacred  writings,  at  least  on  their  irrefragable  inter- 
pretation of  the  Scriptures ;  and  the  denial  of  the 
antipodes  by  St.  Augustine  was  alleged  against  the 
magnificent,  but,  as  it  appeared  to  many,  no  less  impi- 
ous than  frantic,  theory  of  Columbus.^  The  wild  cos 
mogonical  theories  of  the  Gnostics  and  Manicheans, 
with  the  no  less  unsatisfactory  hypotheses  of  the 
Greeks,  tended,  no  doubt,  to  throw  discredit  on  all 
kinds  of  physical  study ,^  and  to  establish  the  strictly 

1  Galen,  as  a  writer  on  physic,  may  be  quoted  as  an  exception. 

2  It  has  been  said,  that  the  best  mathematical  science  which  the  age  could 
command  was  employed  in  the  settlement  of  the  question  about  Easter,  de- 
cided at  the  Council  of  Nic^ea.  See,  on  the  astronomy  and  geography  of  the 
Fathers,  Voss,  Kritische  Blatter,  ii.  155,  et  seq. ;  also  Whewell,  Hist,  of  In- 
ductive Sciences,  i.  156,  &c. 

3  Brucker'3  observ'ations  on  the  physical  knowledge,  or  rather  on  the  pro- 
fessed contempt  of  physical  knowledge,  of  the  Fathers,  are  characterized  with 
his  usual  plain  good  sense.  Their  general  language  was  that  of  Lactantius : 
"  Quanto  faceret  sapientius  ac  verius  si  exceptione  facta  diceret  caussas  ra- 
tionesque  duntaxat  rerum  ccelestium  sen  naturalium,  quia  sunt  abditae,  nee 
sciri  posse,  quia  nuUus  doceat,  nee  qiioivl  oportere,  quia  inveniri  qiioirendo  mm 
jjossunt.  Qua  exceptione  interposita  et  physicos  admonuisset  ne  quiererent  ea, 
quai  modum  excederent  cogitationis  humante;  et  se  ipsum  calumnite  invidia 
liborasset,  et  nobis  certe  dedisset  aliquid,  quod  sequeremur."  —  Div.  Instit. 
ill.  6.  See  other  quotations  to  the  same  effect:  Brucker,  Hist.  Phil.  lii.  p.  357. 
The  work  of  Cosmas  Indicopleustes,  edited  by  Montfaucon,  is  a  curious  ex- 
ample of  the  prevailing  notions  of  physical  science. 


Chap.  V.  RELIGIOUS  BIPRESSIONS.  423 

literal  exposition  of  the  Mosaic  history  of  the  creation. 
The  orthodox  Fathers,  when  they  enlarge  on  the  works 
of  the  six  days,  though  they  allow  themselves  largely 
in  allegorical  inference,  have  in  general  in  view  these 
strange  theories,  and  refuse  to  depart  from  the  strict 
letter  of  the  history  ;  ^  and  the  popular  language,  which 
was  necessarily  employed  with  regard  to  the  earth 
and  the  movements  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  became 
established  as  literal  and  immutable  truth.  The  Bible, 
and  the  Bible  interpreted  by  the  Fathers,  became  the 
code,  not  of  religion  only^  but  of  every  branch  of 
knowledge.  If  religion  demanded  the  assent  to  a 
Heaven-revealed  or  Heaven-sanctioned  theory  of  the 
physical  creation,  the  whole  history  of  man,  from  its 
commencement  to  its  close,  seemed  to  be  established 
in  still  more  distinct  and  explicit  terms.  Nothing  was 
allowed  for  figurative  or  Oriental  phraseology,  —  noth- 
ing for  that  condescension  to  the  dominant  sentiments 
and  state  of  knowledge,  which  may  have  been  neces- 
sary to  render  each  part  of  the  sacred  writings  intelli- 
gible to  that  age  in  which  it  was  composed.  And,  if 
the  origin  of  man  was  thus  clearly  revealed,  the  close 
of  his  history  was  still  supposed,  however  each  genera- 
tion passed  away  undisturbed,  to  be  imminent  and  im- 
mediate. The  Day  of  Judgment  was  before  the  eyes 
of  the  Christian,  either  instant,  or  at  a  very  brief  inter- 
val ;  it  was  not  unusual,  on  a  general  view,  to  discern 
the  signs  of  the  old  age  and  decrepitude  of  the  world ; 
and  every  great  calamity  was  either  the  sign  or  the  com- 
mencement of  the  awful  consummation.     Gregory  I. 

1  Compare  the  Hexaemeron  of  Ambrose,  and  Brucker's  sensible  remarks 
on  the  pardonable  errors  of  that  great  prelate.  The  evil  was,  not  that  the 
Fathers  fell  into  extraordinary  eiTors  on  subjects  of  which  they  were-  ignorant 
but  that  their  errors  were  canonized  by  the  blind  veneration  of  later  ages 
which  might  have  been  better  informed 


424  POLYTHEISTIC   CHRISTIANITY.  Book  IV. 

beheld  in  the  horrors  of  the  Lombard  invasion  the 
visible  approach  of  the  last  day ;  and  it  is  not  impos- 
sible that  the  doctrine  of  a  purgatorial  state  was 
strengthened  by  this  prevalent  notion,  which  inter- 
posed only  a  limited  space  between  the  death  of  the 
individual  and  the  final  judgment.^ 

But  the  popular  belief  was  not  merely  a  theology  in 
its  higher  sense. 

Christianity  began  to  approach  to  a  polytheistic  form, 
or  at  least  to  permit,  what  it  is  difficult  to 

Polytheistic  r  7 

form  of  call  by  any  other  name  than  polytheistic, 
habits  and  feelings  of  devotion.  It  attrib- 
uted, however  vaguely,  to  subordinate  beings  some  of 
the  inalienable  powers  and  attributes  of  divinity. 
Under  the  whole  of  this  form  lay  the  sum  of  Chris- 
tian doctrine  ;  but  that  which  was  constantly  presented 
to  the  minds  of  men  was  the  host  of  subordinate, 
indeed,  but  still  active  and  influential,  mediators  be- 
tween the  Deity  and  the  world  of  man.  Throughout 
(as  has  already  been  and  will  presently  be  indicated 
again)  existed  the  vital  and  essential  difference  be- 
tween Christianity  and  Paganism.  It  is  possible,  that 
the  controversies  about  the  Trinity  and  the  divine 
nature  of  Christ  tended  indirectly  to  the  promotion  of 
this  worship,  of  the  Virgin,  of  angels,  of  saints  and 
martyrs.  The  great  object  of  the  victorious,  to  a  cer- 
tain extent,  of  both  parties,  was  the  closest  approxima- 
tion, in  one  sense,  the  identification,  of  the  Saviour 
with  the  unseen  and  incomprehensible  Deity.     Though 

1  "  Depopulatge  urbes,  eversa  castra,  concrematas  ecclesise,  destructa  sunt 
monasteria  virorum  et  foeminarum,  desolata  ab  hominibus  praedia,  atque  ab 
omni  cultore  destituta;  in  solitudine  vacat  terra,  occupaverunt  bestijB  loca, 
quae  prius  multitudo  hominum  tenebat.  Nam  in  hac  terra,  in  qua  nos  vivi- 
mus,  finem  suum  mundus  jam  non  nuntiat  sed  ostendit."  —  Greg.  Mag.,  Dial. 


Chap.  V.         WORSHIP  OF  SAINTS  AND  ANGELS.  425 

the  human  nature  of  Christ  was  as  strenuously  as- 
serted in  theory,  it  was  not  dwelt  upon  with  the  same 
earnestness  and  constancy  as  his  divine.  To  magnify, 
to  jDurify  this  from  all  earthly  leaven  was  the  object  of 
all  eloquence:  theologic  disputes  on  this  point  with- 
drew or  diverted  the  attention  from  the  life  of  Christ 
as  simply  related  in  the  Gospels.  Christ  became  the 
object  of  a  remoter,  a  more  awful,  adoration.  The 
mind  began  therefore  to  seek  out,  or  eagerly  to  seize, 
some  other  more  material  beings,  in  closer  alliance 
with  human  sympathies.  The  constant  propensity  of 
man  to  humanize  his  Deity,  checked,  as  it  were,  by  the 
receding  majesty  of  the  Saviour,  readily  clung  with  its 
devotion  to  humbler  objects.^  The  weak  wing  of  the 
common  and  unenlightened  mind  could  not  soar  to 
the  unapproachable  light  in  which  Christ  dwelt  with 
the  Father :  it  dropped  to  the  earth,  and  bowed  itself 
down  before  some  less  mysterious  and  infinite  object 
of  veneration.  In  theory  it  was  always  a  different 
and  inferior  kind  of  worship ;  but  the  feelings,  espe- 
cially impassioned  devotion,  know  no  logic  ;  they  pause 
not ;  it  would  chill  them  to  death  if  they  were  to 
pause  for  these  fine  and  subtle  distinctions,  worship  of 

rm  ,1  ,   .    1  T       .         .  saints  and 

ihe  gentle  ascent  by  which  admiration,  rev-  angeis. 
erence,  gratitude,  and  love,  swelled  up  to  awe,  to  ven- 
eration, to  worship,  both  as  regards  the  feelings  of 
the  individual  and  the  general  sentiment,  was  imper- 
ceptible.    Men  passed  from  rational  respect  for  the 

1  The  progress  of  the  worship  of  saints  and  angels  has  been  fairly  and 
impartially  traced  by  Shroeek,  Christliche  Kirchengeschichte,  viii.  161,  et  seq. 
In  the  account  of  the  martyrdom  of  Polycarp,  it  is  said,  "  We  love  the  mar- 
tyrs as  disciples  and  followers  of  the  Lord."  The  Fathers  of  the  next  period 
leave  the  saints  and  martjTS  in  a  kind  of  intermediate  state,  the  bosom  of 
Abraham  or  Paradise,  as  explained  by  Tertullian,  contr.  Marc.  iv.  34. 
Apologett.  47.  —  Compare  Irenaeus  adv.  Haer.  v.  c.  31.  Justin,  Dial,  cum 
Tryph.    Origen,  Horn.  vii.  in  Levit. 


426  WORSHIPS   OF   SAINTS  AND  ANGELS.        Book  IV. 

remains  of  the  dead,^  the  communion  of  holy  thought 
and  emotion,  which  might  connect  the  departed  saint 
with  his  brethren  in  the  flesh,  to  the  superstitious  ven- 
eration of  relics,  and  the  deification  of  mortal  men,  by 
so  easy  a  transition,  that  they  never  discovered  the 
precise  point  at  which  they  transgressed  the  unmarked 
and  unwatched  boundary. 

This  new  polytheizing  Christianity,  therefore,  was 
still  subordinate  and  subsidiary  in  the  theologic  creed 
to  the  true  Christian  worship ;  but  it  usurped  its 
place  in  the  heart,  and  rivalled  it  in  the  daily  language 
and  practices  of  devotion.  Tlie  worshipper  felt  and 
acknowledged  his  dependency,  and  looked  for  protec- 
tion or  support  to  these  new  intermediate  beings,  the 
intercessors  with  the  great  Intercessor.  They  were 
arrayed  by  the  general  belief  in  some  of  the  attributes 
of  the  Deity,  —  ubiquity^  and  the  perpetual  cogni- 
zance of  the  affairs  of  earth ;  they  could  hear  the 
prayer ;  ^  they  could  read  the  heart ;  they  could  con- 

1  The  growth  of  the  worship  of  relics  is  best  shown  by  the  prohibitory 
law  of  Theodosius  (A.D.  386)  against  the  removal  and  sale  of  saints'  bodies 
"Nemo  martj^res  distrahat,  nemo  mercetur."  —  Cod.  Theodos.  ix.  17.  Au- 
gustine denies  that  worship  was  ever  offered  to  apostles  or  saints.  "  Quis 
autem  audivit  aliquando  fidelium  stantem  sacerdotem  ad  altare  etiam  supei 
sanctum  corpus  martyris  ad  Dei  honorem  cultumque  constructum,  dicere  in 
precibus,  ofFero  tibi  sacriticium,  Petre,  vel  Paule,  vel  Cypriane,  cum  apud 
eorum  memorias  ofieratur  Deo  qui  eos  et  homines  et  martyres  fecit,  et  Sanctis 
suis  angelis  coelesti  honore  sociavit."  —  De  Civ.  Dei,  viii.  27.  Compare  xvii. 
10,  where  he  asserts  miracles  to  be  performed  at  their  tombs. 

2  Massuet,  in  his  preface  to  Irenaeus  (p.  cxxxvi.),  has  adduced  some  texts 
from  the  Fathers  of  the  fourth  and  fifth  centuries  on  the  ubiquity  of  the  saints 
and  the  Virgin 

3  Perhaps  the  earliest  instances  of  these  are  in  the  eulogies  of  the  Eastern 
martyrs,  by  Basil,  Greg.  Naz.,  and  Greg.  Nyssen.  See  especially  the  former 
on  the  forty  Martyrs.  'O  ■&?u(36ij.evog,  em  Tovg  TeaaapuKOvra  KaTa(j)evyeL,  6 
ev(j>patv6/iievog,  ctt'  uvTovg  uTzoTpix^i,  b  fihv  Iva  Ivatv  evpy  r<j)v  dvaxspi'-iv,  6 
6e  iva  (j)v7uixdri  avTu  ra  xPV'^'^oTepa-  tvTovQa  yvvrj  svaefSrjg  vTzsp  tekvov 
evxoiJ£vi]  K(iTa?i.a/2(3uveTaL,  aTzodrjjiovvTi  uvdpl  rbv  kndvodov  alrovfievTj,  u()- 
(xjoTOvvn  Tjjv  aurripiav.  —  Oper.  vol.  ii.  p.  155.    These  and  similar  passages 


Chap.  V.  WORSHIP  OF   SAINTS  AND  ANQELS.  427 

trol  nature  ;  tliey  had  a  power,  derivative  indeed  from 
a  higher  source,  but  still  exercised,  according  to  their 
volition,  over  all  the  events  of  the  world.  Thus  each 
city,  and  almost  each  individual,  began  to  have  his 
tutelar  saint ;  the  presence  of  some  beatified  being 
hovered  over  and  hallowed  particular  spots  ;  and  thus 
the  strong  influence  of  local  and  particular  worships 
combined  again  with  that  great  universal  faith,  of 
which  the  supreme  Father  was  the  sole  object,  and  the 
Universe  the  temple. ^     Still,  however,  this  new  polj- 

in  Greg.  Nazianzen  (Orat.  in  Basil)  and  Gregory  of  Nyssa  (in  Theodor.  Mar- 
tyr.), may  be  rhetorical  ornaments;  but  their  ignorant  and  enthusiastic  hear- 
ers would  not  make  much  allowance  for  the  fervor  of  eloquence  Compare 
Prudent,  in  Hippolytum  Martyrem.     See  also  Van  Dale,  p.  230. 

1  An  illustration  of  the  new  form  assumed  by  Christian  Avorship  may  be 
collected  from  the  works  of  Paulinus,  who,  in  eighteen  poems,  celebrates  the 
nativity-  of  St.  Felix,  the  tutelary  saint  of  Nola.  St.  Felix  is  at  least  invested 
in  the  powers  ascribed  to  the  intermediate  deities  of  antiquity.  Pilgi-ims 
crowded  from  the  whole  of  the  south  of  Italy  to  the  festival  of  St.  Felix. 
Eome  herself,  though  she  possessed  the  altars  of  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul, 
poured  forth  her  myriads ;  the  Capenian  gate  was  choked,  the  Appian  way 
■vras  covered  with  the  devout  worshippers."  Multitudes  ckme  fi-om  beyond 
the  sea.  St.  Felix  is  implored  by  his  servants  to  remove  the  impediments  to 
their  pilgrimages  from  the  hostility  of  men  or  adverse  weather ;  to  smooth 
the  seas,  and  send  propitious  winds.^    There  is  constant  reference,  indeed,  to 


2  Stipatam  multis  unam  juvat  urbibus  urbem 
Cernere,  totque  iino  compulsa  examina  voto. 
Lucani  coeunt  populi,  coit  Appula  pubes ; 

Et  Calabri,  et  cuncti,  quos  adluit  sestus  uterque, 
Qui  laeva,  et  dextra  Latium  circumsonat  unda. 

Et  qua  bis  ternas  Campania  laeta  per  urbes,  &c. 

Ipsaque  coelestum  sacris  procerum  monumentis 

Roma  Petro  Pauloque  poteus,  rarescere  gaudet 

Hujus  honore  diei,  portseque  ex  ore  Capenae 

Millia  profundens  ad  amicae  moenia  Nolae 

Dimittit  duodena  decern  per  millia  denso 

Agmine,  confertis  longe  latet  Appia  turbis.  —  Carin.  iii. 

3  Da  currere  mollibus  undis, 

Et  famulis  tamulos  a  puppi  suggere  ventos.  —  Carm.  i. 


428  WORSHIP  OF  SAINTS  AND  ANGELS.        Book  IV 

theism  differed  in  its  influence,  as  well  as  in  its  nature, 
from  that  of  Paganism.     It  bore  a  constant  reference 

Christ,!  as  the  source  of  this  power;  yet  the  power  is  fully  and  explicitly 
assigned  to  the  saint.  He  is  the  prevailing  intercessor  between  the  worship- 
per and  Christ.  But  the  vital  distinction  between  this  Paganizing  form  of 
Christianity  and  Paganism  itself  is  no  less  manifest  in  these  poems.  It  is 
not  merely  as  a  tutelary  deity  in  this  life,  that  the  saint  is  invoked :  the  future 
state  of  existence  and  the  final  judgment  are  constantly  present  to  the 
thoughts  of  the  worshipper.  St.  Felix  is  entreated  after  death  to  bear  the 
souls  of  his  worshippers  into  the  bosom  of  the  Redeemer,  and  to  intercede  for 
them  at  the  last  day.2 

These  poems  furnish  altogether  a  curious  picture  of  the  times,  and  show 
how  early  Christian  Italy  began  to  become  what  it  is.  The  pilgrims  brought 
their  votive  offerings,  curtains,  and  hangings,  embroidered  with  figures  of 
animals,  silver  plates,  with  inscriptions,  candles  of  painted  wax,  pendent 
lamps,  precious  ointments,  and  dishes  of  venison  and  other  meats  for  the  ban- 
quet. The  following  characteristic  circumstance  must  not  be  omitted.  The 
magnificent  plans  of  Pauliuus  for  building  the  church  of  St.  Felix  were  inter- 
fered with  by  two  wooden  cottages,  which  stood  in  a  field  before  the  fi-ont  of 
the  building.  At  midnight  a  fire  broke  out  in  these  tenements.  The  affi-ighted 
bishop  woke  up  in  trembling  apprehension  lest  the  splendid  "  palace  "  of  the 
saint  should  be  enveloped  in  the  flames.  He  entered  the  church,  armed  with  a 
piece  of  the  wood  of  the  true  cross,  and  advanced  towards  the  fire.  The 
flames,  which  had  resisted  all  the  water  thrown  upon  them,  retreated  before 
the  sacred  wood;  and  in  the  morning  every  thing  was  found  uninjured  except 
these  two  devoted  buildings.    The  bishop,  without  scruple,  ascribes  the  fire  to 

St.  Felix:  — 

Sed  et  hoc  Felicis  gratia  nobis 
Munere  consuluit,  quod  praeveniendo  laborem 
Utilibus  flammis,  operum  compendia  nobis 
Pra2stitit.  —  Carm.  x. 
The  peasant,  who  had  dared  to  prefer  his  hovel,  though  the  beloved 
dwelling  of  his  youth,  to  the  house  of  God  or  of  his  saint,  seeing  one  of  the 
buildings  thus  miraculously  in  flames,  sets  fire  to  the  other. 

Et  celeri  peragit  sua  damna  furore 
Dilectasque  domos,  et  inanes  plangit  amores. 
Some  of  the  other  miracles  at  the  shrine  of  St.  Felix  border  close  on  the 
comic. 

1  Sis  bonus  o  felixque  tuis,  Dominumque  potentem 

Exores,  .  .  . 

Liceat  placati  munere  Christi 

Post  pelagi  fluctus,  &c. 
*  Positasque  tuorum 

Ante  tuos  yultus,  animas  vectare  paterno 

Ne  renuas  greniio  Domini  fulgentis  ad  ora.  .  .  . 

Posce  ovium  grege  nos  statui,  ut  sententia  summi 

Judicis,  hoc  quoque  nos  iterum  tibi  munere  donet.  —  Carm.  iii. 


Chap.  V.  WORSHIP  OF  THE  VIRGIN.  429 

to  another  state  of  existence.  Though  the  office  of 
the  tutelary  being  was  to  avert  and  mitigate  temporal 
suffering,  yet  it  was  still  more  so  to  awaken  and  keep 
alive  the  sentiments  of  the  religious  being.  They 
were  not  merely  the  agents  of  the  divine  providential 
government  on  earth,  but  indissolubly  connected  with 
the  hopes  and  fears  of  the  future  state  of  existence. 

The  most  natural,  most  beautiful,  and  most  uni- 
versal, though  perhaps  the  latest  developed,-  worship  of 
of  these  new  forms  of  Christiaiiity,  — that  ^^^^'^^sin. 
which  tended  to  the  poetry  of  the  religion,  and  acted 
as  the  conservator  of  art,  particularly  of  painting,  till 
at  length  it  became  the  parent  of  that  refined  sense  of 
the  beautiful,  that  which  was  the  inspiration  of  modern 
Italy,  —  was  the  worship  of  the  Virgin.  Directly  that 
Christian  devotion  expanded  itself  beyond  its  legiti- 
mate objects ;  as  soon  as  prayers  or  hymns  v/ere 
addressed  to  any  of  those  beings  who  had  acquired 
sanctity  from  their  connection  or  co-operation  with  the 
introduction  of  Christianity  into  the  world ;  as  soon 
as  the  apostles  and  martyrs  had  become  hallowed  in 
the  general  sentiment,  as  more  especially  the  objects 
of  the  divine  favor  and  of  human  gratitude,  —  the 
Virgin  mother  of  the  Saviour  appeared  to  possess 
peculiar  claims  to  the  veneration  of  the  Christian 
world.  The  worship  of  the  Virgin,  like  most  of  the 
other  tenets  which  grew  out  of  Christianity,  originated 
in  the  lively  fancy  and  fervent  temperament  of  the 
East,  but  was  embraced  with  equal  ardor,  and  retained 
with  passionate  constancy,  in  the  West.^ 

1  Irenseus,  in  whose  works  are  found  the  earliest  of  those  ardent  expres- 
sions with  regard  to  the  Virgin,  which  afterwards  kindled  into  adoration, 
may,  in  this  respect,  be  considered  as  Oriental.  I  allude  to  his  parallel  be- 
tween Eve  and  the  Virgin,  in  which  he  seems  to  assign  a  mediatorial  char- 
acter to  the  latter.  — Iren.  iii.  33,  v.  19. 

The  earlier  Fathers  use  expressions  with  regard  to  the  Virgin  altogether 


430  WORSHIP   OF  TPIE  VIRGIN.  Book  IV 

The  higher  importance  assigned  to  the  female  sex 
by  Christianity,  than  by  any  other  form  at  least  of 
Oriental  religion,  powerfully  tended  to  the  general 
adoption  of  the  worship  of  the  Virgin  while  that 
worship  re-acted  on  the  general  estimation  of  the 
female  sex.  Women  willingly  deiiied  (we  cannot  use 
another  adequate  expression)  this  perfect  representa- 
tive of  their  own  sex,  while  the  sex  was  elevated  in 
general  sentiment  by  the  influence  ascribed  to  their 
all-powerful  patroness.  The  ideal  of  this  sacred  being 
was  the  blending  of  maternal  tenderness  with  perfect 
purity,  —  the  two  attributes  of  the  female  character 
which  man,  by  his  nature,  seems  to  hold  in  the  higliest 
admiration  and  love ;  and  this  image  constantly  pre- 
sented to  the  Christian  mind,  calling  forth  the  gentler 
emotions,  appealing  to,  and  giving,  as  it  were,  the 
divine  sanction  to,  domestic  affections,  could  not  be 
without  its  influence.  It  operated  equally  on  the 
manners,  the  feelings,  and  in  some  respect  on  the  in- 
ventive powers  of  Christianity.  The  gentleness  of 
the  Redeemer's  character,  the  impersonation  of  the 
divine  mercy  in  his  whole  beneficent  life,  had  been  in 
some  degree  darkened  by  the  fierceness  of  polemic 
animosity.  The  religion  had  assumed  a  sternness  and 
severity  arising  from  the   mutual   and  recriminatory 

iuconsistent  with  the  reverence  of  later  ages.  Tertullian  compares  her 
unfavorably  with  Martha  and  Mary,  and  insinuates  that  she  partook  of  the 
incredulity  of  the  rest  of  her  own  family.  "  Mater  sequ6  non  demonstratur 
adhsesisse  illi,  cum  Marthae  et  Marice  alise  in  commercia  ejus  frequententur. 
Hoc  denique  in  loco  (St.  Luc.  viii.  20)  apparet  incredulitas  eorum  cum  is  do- 
ceret  viam  vitse,"  &c.  —  De  Carne  Christi,  c.  7.  There  is  a  collection  of 
quotations  on  this  subject  in  Field  on  the  Church,  p.  264,  et  seqq.  See  this 
subject  pursued  in  Latin  Christianity. 

The  Collyridians,  who  offered  cakes  to  the  Virgin,  were  rejected  as  here- 
tics.—  Epiph.,  Hasr.  Ixxviii.,  Ixxix. 

The  perpetual  virginity  of  Mary  was  an  object  of  controversy:  as  might 
be  expected,  it  was  maintained  with  unshaken  confidence  by  Epiphanius, 
Ambrose,  and  Jerome. 


Chap.  V.  WORSHIP  OF  THB  VIRGIN.  431 

condemnations.  The  opposite  parties  denounced  eter 
nal  punishments  against  each  otlier  with  such  indis- 
criminate energy,  that  hell  had  become  almost  the 
leading  and  predominant  image  in  the  Christian  dis- 
pensation. This  advancing  gloom  was  perpetually 
softened ;  this  severity  allayed  by  the  impulse  of 
gentleness  and  purity,  suggested  by  this  new  form 
of  worship.  It  kept  in  motion  the  genial  under- 
current of  more  humane  feeling ;  it  diverted  and 
estranged  the  tliought  from  this  harassing  strife  to 
calmer  and  less  exciting  objects.  T!ie  dismil  and 
the  terrible,  which  so  constantly  haunted  the  imagina- 
tion, found  no  place  during  the  contemplation  of  tlie 
Mother  and  the  Child,  which,  when  once  it  became 
enshrined  in  the  heart,  began  to  take  a  visible  and 
external  form.^  The  image  arose  out  of,  and  derived 
its  sanctity  from,  the  general  feeling,  which  in  its 
turn,  especially  when,  at  a  later  period,  real  art 
breathed  life  into  it,  strengthened  the  general  feeling 
to  an  incalculable  degree. 

The  wider  and  more  general  dissemination  of  the 
worship  of  the  Virgin  belongs  to  a  later  period  in 
Christian  history. 

Thus,  under  her  new  form,  was  Christianity  pre- 
pared to  enter  into  the  darkening  period  of  European 
history,  —  to  fulfil  her  high  office  as  the  great  con- 

1  At  a  later  period,  indeed,  even  the  Virgin  became  the  goddess  of  war. 
'Ael  yap  olde  Tr]v  (})vaiv  vlkuv  [xovri, 
TuKu  TO  TrpcJTOv,  Kol  {laXQ  to  Sevrepov. 

Such  are  the  verses  of  George  of  Pisidia,  relating  a  victory  over  the  Avars. 
On  the  whole  subject  of  this  Conclusion,  I  would  venture  to  refer  to  the  Hist. 
of  Latin  Christianity,  especially  to  the  chapters  on  Iconoclasm,  and  those  in 
the  Survey,  relating  to  the  Popular  Worship,  the  Literature,  and  the  Fine 
Arts  of  Christianity. 


432  WORSHIP  OF  THE  VIRGIN.  Book  IV. 

servative  principle  of  religion,  knowledge,  humanity, 
and  of  the  highest  degree  of  civilization  of  which  the 
age  was  capable,  during  centuries  of  violence,  of 
ignorance,  and  of  barbarism. 


INDEX. 


The  Roman  nmnerdls  refer  to  the  volumes  ;  the  Arabic  fibres  denote  the  pages. 


A. 


Abduction,  over-rigor  of  Constan 
tine's  laws  against,  ii.  399,  400.       j 

Abel,  principle  in  Valentinus's  sys-  i 
tem  represented  by,  ii.  77.  In  Mar-  I 
ciou's  Gospel,  S3.  i 

Abgar,  King  of  Edessa,  ii.  78.  An  j 
alleged  correspondent  with.  Jesus,  i 
ii.  61,  259.  ' 

Ablutions.  —  See  Baptism.  \ 

Abraham,  enshrined  as  a  deity  by 
Alexander  Severns,  ii.  181.    Proba-  I 
ble  origin  of  the  Abrahamic  reli-  , 
gion,  181.     Spot  where  the  angels  I 
appeared  to  him,  353.  j 

Abraxas,  legend  of,  ii.  70,  71.    Va- 
riety of  attempts  to  interpret  same,  I 
70  note.      Engraved   on  seals,   iii.  ! 
394.  I 

Abyss,  Valentinus's  typification   of 
the,  ii.  73.    Its  place  in  the  Ophitic  I 
system,  bo.  i 

Abyssinian  Christianity,  character  I 
of,  i.  56  note.  \ 

Academics,  the,  i.  43.  I 

Aceldama,  or  the  Field  of  Blood,  pur- 
cJiase  of,  i.  329.  Kuinoel's  sugges- 
tion, ibid.  note. 

AcHALi,  result  of  a  trial  between  the 
Jews  and  Christians  at,  i.  408. 

AcoLYTH,  office  and  duties  of  the,  iii.  i 
271.  ! 

Acropolis,  Constantinople,  ii.  336.      [ 

Acts  of  the  Apostles,  why  rejected  by  i 
Mani,  ii.  266.  Lardner's  suggestion,  | 
ibi<h  vote.  —  See  Ajyostles.  j 

Acts  of  the  Martyi's,  literary  merit  of 
the,  iii.  361-363. 

Adam  Cedmon,  Mani's  primal  man,  ' 

whence  derived,  ii.  264.     His  office  j 

and  attributes,  269.    Man  formed  in  | 

his  image,  270.  1 

VOL.  III.  28 


A-DEO-DATUS,  Augustine's  natural 
son,  iii.  185.  His  baptism  and 
death,  187. 

Aderbijan,  i.  72. 

Adiabeni.  —  See  Helen,  Queen. 

Adrianople  in  Alexandria,  cruelty 
of  the  Arians  at,  ii.  423.  See  Ha- 
dvianople. 

Adriatic,  the,  ii.  211,  226.. 

Ad  u  LIS,  commerce  through  the  port 
of,  ii.  404. 

Adultery,  Constantine's  law  against, 
ii.  400,  401.  —  See  Divorce. 

^DESius,  Julian's  inten'iew  with,  ii. 
461.  —  See  Edesius. 

^LiA,  new  city  founded  by  Hadrian 
on  the  site  of  Jerusalem,  i.  433 ;  iii. 
196. 

.^Lius,  result  of  commission  issued  to, 
ii.  309. 

./Eons,  ii.  37.  Simon  Magus  an  Mon, 
51.  The  ^on  Christ,  62.  ^Eons 
of  Gnosticism,  69.  Valentinus's 
^ons,  73-76.  ^ons  of  Earde- 
sanes.  78,  79.  Rejected  by  Car- 
pocrates,  84. 

^scuL^VPius,  proscription  of  the  wor- 
ship of,  ii.  349.  —  See  iii.  73. 

Aetius,  heresy  of,  ii.  447.  ELis  origin 
and  proselytizing  career,  447,  448. 
His  attachment  to  the  Aristotelian 
philosophy,  447  note.  His  follower 
Eudoxus,  449.  His  banishment,  451. 
One  of  the  heroes  of  Philostorgius, 
451  note. 

Afghans,  country  of  the,  ii.  254. 

Africa,  Christian  congregations  in,  ii. 
116,  212,  281,  Persecutions  under 
Severus,  160.  Priestly  hatred  ex- 
cited by  the  progress  of  Christianity 
there,  162.  Character  of  Ati-ican 
Christianity:  tvpe  of  same  repre- 
sented by  Tertullian,  163-167.  Af- 
rican martjTs:  Felicitas,  Perpetua, 
[4331 


434 


INDEX. 


and  others,  168-176.  The  Lapsi 
and  Libellatici,  193.  Rebellion  un- 
der Maxentius,  285.  College  found- 
ed by  the  Atricans  in  return  for 
their  oppressor's  head,  294.  Con- 
stantine's  gifts  to,  and  efforts  to 
allay  the  contests  in,  their  churches, 
29b,"' 299.  Disorganizing  eflfejls  if 
persecution,  301.  Episcopal  power 
among  them,  302.  Oppressive  con- 
duct of  the  Prefect  Anulinus,  and 
fatal  dissensions  excited  by  it,  303. 
Devastation  and  distraction  of  its 
chies  by  the  Donatists,  311-313. 
Source  of  its  commercial  prosperity, 
311.  Coustantine's  munilicence  to 
its  churches,  317.  — See  ii.  308,  314, 
330. 

Agabus,  famine  predicted  by,  i.  386. 
His  prophetic  denunciation  of  Paul's 
imprisonment,  409. 

Agap.e,  iii.  327.  The  Agapae  of  the 
Martyrs,  328.  Denounced  by  Ter- 
tullian,  329  note.  Paintings  and 
remains,  ibid. 

Agatho-demon  of  Egyptian  my- 
thology, il.  85,  ibid.  nute. 

Agde,  council  of,  secular  music  con- 
demned by  the,  iii.  332. 

Age^jakio,  occasion  of  change  of 
name  by,  i.  49  note. 

Agekatos  the  Mon  and  his  consort, 
ii.  74. 

Agincourt,  see  D' Agincourt. 

Agkippa,  son  of  Herod  Agrippa,  sent 
to  Home,  i.  394.  Impression  made 
upon  him  by  Paul's  defence,  417. 
His  edict  in  favor  of  the  Jews,  457. 
Seei.  51;  ii.  13. 

AgPvIppina  put  to  death,  i.  416  note. 

Ahriman,  ii.  67,  256. 

Akinetos  the  ^on  and  his  consort, 
ii.  74. 

Alaric,  alleged  appearance  of  Mi- 
nerva to,  iii.  82  nute.  His  assault 
on  Pome :  impartial  in  his  fury,  100. 
See  340. 

Albinus,  Prefect  of  Judaea,  i.  310,  418. 
Oppression  of  Judaia  under  him, 
471. 

Albinus  of  Rome,  vengeance  of  Se- 
verus  on  the  friends  of,  ii.  158.  His 
parallel  of  Constantiue  with  Nero, 
327,  ibid,  note,  333. 

Alcibiades,  a  Christian,  reproved  for 
his  asceticism,  ii.  165  note. 

Alemanni,  Julian's  exclamation  con- 
cerning the,  iii.  9. 

Aletheia,  position  assigned  by  Val- 
entinus  to,  ii.  73. 

Alexander,  Bishop  of  Constantino- 


ple, opposes  the  reception  of  Anus, 
ii.  385.  Event  ascribed  to  his  pray- 
ers, 386. 

Alexander,  Bishop  of  Rome,  pre- 
tended discovery  of  a  chapel  dedica- 
ted to,  ii.  106  nx)te.  His  opposition 
to  Arianism,  3S5.  His  comparison 
of  Arais  to  Judas,  386. 

Alexander  the  coppersmith,  in- 
former against  St.  Paul,  i.  477. 

Alexander  the  Great,  result  of  the 
monarchy  established  by,  i.  9.  His 
policy  towards  the  religion  of  con- 
quered nations,  13.  Persian  tradi- 
tions regarding  him,  ibid.  note. 

Alexander,  the  Jew  of  Ephesus,  si- 
lenced by  the  mob,  i.  462. 

Alexander,  Patriarch  of  Alexan- 
dria, ii.  364.  Conflicts  between 
himself  and  Arius,  ot;5.  Kebuked 
by  Constantine,  367.  His  secretary 
and  successor,  379. 

Alexander,  St.,  alleged  discovery  of 
the  remains  of,  ii.  lOd  note. 

Alexander  Severus,  parentage  and 
training  of,  ii.  180.  Founders  of 
systems  deified  by  him,  Ifcl;  iii. 
395.  Encouragement  afforded  by 
him  to  Christianity  and  its  follow- 
ers, 182.  His  observation  on  mak- 
ing a  grant  of  land  to  them,  183. 
Contrast  between  him  and  his  suc- 
cessor, 189.  Existence  of  Christian 
churches  in  his  reign,  iii.  333  note. 
—  See  ii.  154. 

Alexandklv,  its  countless  religious 
and  philosophical  factions,  ii.  61. 
Centre  of  speculative  and  intellect- 
ual activity,  68.  Notion  in  which 
the  God  of  the  Jews  was  looked 
upon,  71.  Religious  tone  of  its 
higher  classes,  112.  Chief  scene  of 
Christian  suflering,  lOu.  Soil  of 
rehgious  feuds,  161.  Consequences 
thereof,  162.  Sanguinar}'-  zeal  of 
its  populace,  192.  Christian  dis- 
putes satirized  on  its  stage,  363. 
Its  seven  hundred  virgins,  366  note. 
Never  at  peace  on  religious  matters, 
iii  20.  Imperial  claim  made  to  the 
fee  simple  of  the  city's  cite,  20,  21. 
Tumults  under  Julian,  21-23.  Its 
bishops.  —  See  Alexander  the  Patri- 
arch ;  Athanasius,  St. ;  George  of 
Cappadocin;  Gregory  of  C(tppado- 
cia;  Peter;  Theophilue.  See  also 
ii.  45,  59,  72,  355,  364,  374,  381 
note,  iii.  106. 

Alexandpjan  .school  of  Jews,  i.  33. 
Their  notion  of  a  mediator,  80,  86. 
Combination  of  their  system  with 


INDEX. 


435 


Indian  mysticism,  ii.  45.  Conse- 
quence of  their  presence  at  the  Ro- 
man theatres,  100.  Their  prophetic 
books  ascribed  to  the  Sibyls,  122- 
125.  — See  ii.  21  ?zo/e,  72,  80,  188. 

Aliturus,  the  Jewish  actor  at  Rome, 
i.  470  note;  ii.  100.  His  influence 
with  the  emperor,  100 

Allegoky,  religious,  transmutation 
of  poetry  into,  ii.  187. 

Alleluia,  effect  upon  the  philosopher 
Ohmpus  of  the,  iii.  76.  —  See  also 
iii."  o5y,  408. 

Alps,  progress  of  Christianity  after 
passing  the,  ii.  283.  —  See  335. 

Altar  in  the  church,  position  and 
furniture  of  the,  iii.  317. 

Alytarchs,  the,  iii.  337  note. 

AiMANTius  the  soothsayer,  torture 
and  execution  of,  43. 

Ambo,  position  and  uses  of  the,  315, 
316. 

Ambrose,  St.,  influence  over  Gratiau 
of,  iii.  86.  His  sarcasm  on  rewards 
for  virginity,  88.  Character  of  his 
writings,  90.  His  reply  to  the 
apology  of  Symmachus,  yl-93.  His 
flight  from  Milan,  93.  His  letter  to 
Eugenius,  93  note.  His  influence 
and  its  causes,  106,  107.  Practi- 
cal character  of  his  oratory  and 
conduct,  155,  156.  His  parentage; 
Probus's  prophetic  monition  to  him, 
156.  Elected  Bishop  of  Milan,  157. 
His  advocacy  of  celibacy,  and  its 
effect  on  the  Roman  mothers,  157, 
158.  His  efforts  against  slavery, 
158,  159.  His  success  as  a  nego- 
tiator, 160.  His  conduct  on  the 
attempted  seizure  of  a  church  by 
Justina's  orders,  160,  163.  His 
reply  to  a  courtier's  threat,  163  note. 
His  further  conquests  over  Arian- 
ism  and  Paganism,  163,  164.  Con- 
tract between  his  practical  states- 
manship and  his  subtle  theology, 
164  note.  Popular  belief  in  his  pos- 
session of  miraculous  power,  164, 
165.      Miracle   accredited    to   him, 

165,  166.  Arian  denial  of  same, 
ibid.  note.  His  mag-nificence  in  the 
conduct  of  the  Church  ceremonials, 

166,  275.  Result  of  his  second  em- 
bassy to  Maximus,  167.  Destruc- 
tive acts  of  distant  Christians  vindi- 
cated by  him;  his  reproof  of  the 
emperor  on  the  occasion,  168-170. 
Penance  imposed  by  him  on  the 
emperor  for  a  sanguinary  massacre, 
171,  172.  His  protest  against  the 
murder  of  the  Priscillianists,  173. 


His  last  hours  and  death,  174. 
Hymn  ascribed  to  him,  359.  Value 
of  his  letters,  370  note.  His  Hexa- 
emeron,  423  note.  An  advocate  for 
the  perpetual  virginity  of  Maiy, 
430  note.  —  See  ii.  394 ;'  iii.  67  note, 
141,  219  note,  277  note,  278  note,  293 
note,  312  note,  320  note,  329  note,  331 
note,  356,  370  note,  392,  398  luAe, 
400. 

Ambeosian  chant,  the,  iii.  409,  410. 

Amekius,  epistle  to,  ii.  470  note. 

Ajmmianus  Marcellinus,  illustrative 
citations  from,  ii.  471  note;  iii.  12 
note,  22  note,  27,  40  note,  41  note, 
48  note,  01  note,  72  note,  252  note. 

Ammon,  iii.  119  note. 

Ajimonius,  fall  of  Paganism  deplored 
by,  iii.  77. 

Amphipolis  visited  by  Paul,  i.  447. 

Amphitheatre,  gladiatorial  shows  in 
the,  iii.  347. 

Amphitkite  of  Rhodes,  the,  ii.  339. 

Amschaspaxds  of  the  Zendavesta 
and  Jewish  Archangels,  i.  77.  Their 
number,  ibid.  note.  Introduced  into 
Gnostic  systems,  ii.  66,  69. 

Amulets.  —  See  Talismam. 

Amusements.  —  See  Spectacles,  jmb- 
Uc. 

Anah,  murderer  of  Khosrov,  his 
crime  and  his  fate,  ii.  260. 

Anaitis,  or  Anahid,  Bab3donian  Dei- 
ty, principle  personified  by,  ii.  261. 

Ananas.  —  See  Annas. 

Ananias,  the  high  priest,  why  sent 
prisoner  to  Rome,  i.  396,  413.  Re- 
sumes the  pontificate,  396.  His 
character,  413. 

Ananias  and  Sapphira,  death  of,  i. 
371. 

Anastasia,  sectarian  attack  on  the, 
iii.  118. 

Anastasis,  description  of  the  Church 
of  the,  ii.  352,  353. 

Anchorites,  Eastern  localities  peo- 
ple.d  by,  iii.  205.  Their  numbers, 
214. 

Ancyra,  Council  of,  iii.  272  note,  282 
note. 

Andeole,  St.,  a  doubtful  martyr,  ii. 
160  7iote. 

Andreas  the  eunuch  put  to  death, 
ii.  224. 

Andrew  the  apostle,  i.  188,  221,  398. 

Andronicus  of  Caria,  his  impardon- 
able  offence,  iii.  45. 

Andronicus,  Prefect  of  Libj^a,  cruel- 
ties and  exactions  of,  iii.  301.  Sen- 
tence of  the  Church  upon  him,  301, 
302. 


436 


INDEX. 


AxGEL  of  the  Synagogue,  ii.  22,  ihid. 
note. 

Angel  or  Bishop,  ii.  20. —  See  Bish- 
ops. 

Angels,  original  Jewish  notions  of,  i. 
76.  Elaboration  of  the  system  in 
Babylonia,  76,  77.  Archangels  and 
guardian  angels,  77.  Angelic  im- 
age used  by  the  Saviour,  7«. 

Anicii  and  Annii,  embracement  of 
Christianity  by  the,  iii.  96. 

Anna  endowed  with  a  prophetic 
knowledge  of  Christ's  birth,  i.  113. 

Annas,  or  Ananus,  the  high  priest, 
his  influence  in  Jerusalem,  i.  319. 
Grade  of  office  held  by  him,  370 
note. 

Annas,  or  Ananus,  son  of  the  above, 
assumes  the  high-priestship,  i.  418. 
Question  as  to  class  of  persons  put 
to  death  by  him,  418  note.  Proof 
of  his  unpopularity,  420. 

Annona,  the,  iii.  ^'dnote. 

Annunciation,  the,  1.  98. 

Anomeans,  doctrine  of  the,  ii.  448- 
450. 

Anthemius,  Sunday  wnld-beast  spec- 
tacles prohibited  by,  iii.  351. 

Anthimus,  Bishop  of  Nicomedia,  be- 
headed, ii.  224. 

Anthropomokphism  of  the  Greeks, 
i.  24,  25.  —  See  Greece.  Its  oppo- 
nent and  advocates  in  Alexandria, 
iii.  107,  217,  218. 

Anthkopos  as  a  Gnostic  manifesta- 
tion, ii.  73. 

Antichrist,  Nero  expected  to  return 
as,  1.  470  note;  ii.  126,  127,  notes. 
The  name  bestowed  on  Constan- 
tius,  429,  437. 

Antinous  deified  by  Hadrian,  ii.  109, 
126. 

Antioch  in  Pisidia,  expulsion  of 
Paul  from,  i.  401,  443. 

Antioch  in  Syria,  commencement  of 
a  predicted  famine  in,  i.  386;  Paul 
summoned    thither,    397.    _  Head- 
quarters  of  foreign   Christian   op- 
erations,    397.        First     Christian  | 
"  church  "  formed  there,  402 ;  ii.  61. 
Persecution  under  Trajan,  and  de-  | 
struction  of  the  Pagan  temple,  ii. 
104-106.     Liunent  for  Bishop  Ba-  | 
bylas,     192.       Advancement    and  ■ 
degradation  of  Paul  of  Samosata,  ' 
204-206.     Anti-Christian   placards  , 
in  the  streets,  234.    Bishop  Luci-  ' 
anus,  236.     Martyrdom  of  one  of  i 
its  presbyters,  280.     Arian  strug- 
gles for  supremacy,  377.     Danger  | 
of  an  outbreak,  378.    Incongruous 


passions  of  its  populace,  iii.  16. 
Reception  of  Julian  by  them,  17, 
IS.  Re-edification  and  sudden  de- 
struction of  the  Pagan  temple,  19, 
20.  Joy  of  its  people  at  -Julian's 
death,  35.  Retort  of  a  grammarian, 
ibid.  ICpiscopal  election  feuds,  120. 
Insurrection  under  Theodosius,  and 
spoliation  vi  the  imperial  statues, 
127.  Samp  ascribed  to  diabolic 
agency,  ibid.  note.  Subsequent  ter- 
rors of  the  inhabitants;  result  of 
appeals  to  the  emperor's  clemency, 
128-133.  Its  C'.uiicil,  2IJS  note, 
272  note.  Possessions  and  benevo- 
lences of  its  church,  280  note. 
Gymnastic  games,  340.  Its  bish- 
ops, see  Eustathius ;  Flavianus ; 
Lticiamis ;  Meletius ;  Paul  of  Sam- 
osata; &te2jhtn.  See  also  ii.  21 
note,  66,  87,  117,  213,  225,  236;  iii. 
15,  29,  57,  70,  269,  383. 

Antiociius  the  Great,  i.  67  note. 

Antiochus  Epiphanes,  persecution 
of  the  Jews  by,  i.  12  7iote.  Con- 
struction put  "by  them  upon  his 
death,  IGy. 

Antipater,  Herod's  eldest  son,  in- 
trigues and  death  of.  i.  61,  91. 

Antitheses  of  Marcion,  ii.  81,  83 
^wte.  —  See  Marcion. 

Antonia,  the  Temple  fortress,  i.  328. 

Antonines,  the,  ii.  91.  Prevailing 
spirit  of  their  reign,  92.  Their  en- 
couragement of  education,  iii.  10, 
11. —  See  Anivninus  Pius;  Marcus 
Aurelius. 

Antoninus  Pius,  system  of  Hadrian 
pursued  by,  ii.  94,  112.  Rescript 
in  favor  of  the  Christians  ascribed 
to  him,  113,  114.  Same  spurious, 
113  note.     His  peaceful  death,  134. 

Antony,  St.,  the  representative  of 
monastic  life.  iii.  206.  His  parent- 
age and  training,  ibid.  Divests 
himself  of  his  possessions  f'nd 
becomes  an  anchorite,  206,  207. 
Character  of  his  asceticism,  207. 
Favorability  of  the  juncture  at 
wliich  he  appeared,  and  influence 
of  his  example,  211,  212. 

Anuuis,  iii.  119  note. 

Anulinus,  the  spoiler  of  and  after- 
wards the  instrument  of  patronage 
to  Christian  churches,  ii.  303.  His 
interference  sought  by  contending 
Christian--,,  306. 

Ape  of  Christianity,  ii.  475. 

Aphrodite,  ii.  336.  Her  temple  de- 
stroyed by  Constantine,  349.  Sa- 
cred site  of  one  of  her  temples,  350 


INDEX. 


437 


Apocalypse.  —  See  Revelations. 

Apocrypha,  illustrative  citation  from 
the,  i.  85  note  2,  88  note  2. 

Apolline  Christians  and  ApoUina- 
rians,  ii.  30;  iii.  8. 

Apoi.lo,  votaries  of,  ii.  94.  Imperial 
consulters  of  his  oracle,  215,  219, 
230.  Temples  mentioned  by  Eu- 
menius,  282  note.  Expected  re- 
building of  his  temple  under  Co/.- 
stantine,  289.  Julian's  rage  at  the 
state  of  his  temple  at  Antioch,  iii. 

18.  The  god  abashed  in  the  pres- 
ence of  a  saint,  19.  lie-edification 
and  sudden  burning  of  his  temple, 

19,  20.  Destruction  (-f  his  worship 
on  Mount  Casino,  102.  —  See  ii.  341. 

Apollonia  visited  by  Paul,  i.  447. 

Apollonius  cf  Tyana,  nature  of  the 
legends  of,  i.  123.  His  parallel,  ii. 
51.  Keply  of  Bardesanes  to  him.  78. 
Enshrined  by  Alexander  Severus 
as  a  deity,  181.  Systems  identitied 
with  him,  181.  Character  of  his 
life,  187. 

Apollos,  espousal  of  Christianity  by ; 
lead  taken  by  him,  i.  458. 

Apologists  for  Christianity,  ii.  109 
note.,  1 10.  Growing  influence  of  the 
Apology,  112.  Various  Apologies 
and  their  authors,  iii.  367,  368. 

Apostates,  laws  against  and  penal- 
ties on,  iii.  88  note,  105,  258  note. 

Apostles,  organization  of  the,  i.  220. 
Their  names,  origin,  &c.,  221-223. 
Powers  conferred  on  and  dangers 
threatening  them,  233.  Jewish 
prejudices  occasionally  exhibited  by 
them,  246.  Their  h'  pes  and  fears 
concerning  Jesus,  248-251.  Cause 
of  their  incredidity  on  his  appear- 
ance after  his  resurrection,  359, 
360.  Course  taken  by  them  after 
the  ascension,  362.  Election  of  a 
new  aptstle,  363.  Descent  of  the 
Holy  Ghost  among  them,  364.  Use 
made  by  them  of  the  Gift  of  Tongues, 
and  immediate  fruits  of  their  lab'^rs, 
366-368.  '1  heir  seizure  and  impris- 
onment, attitude  before  their  perse- 
cutors, miraculous  liberation,  and 
le-imprisonmeut.  370-372.  Punish- 
ment ultimately  inflicted  on  them, 
373.  Chronnlogical  ditticulties  con- 
nected with  their  Acts  and  writings, 

373,  374,  note.  Occasion  of  their 
institution  of  the  office  of  deacon, 

374,  375.  Enrolment  of  Paul  and 
Barnabas  among  them,  392,  397. 
Subsequent  career  and  fate  of  the 
chosen  twelve  as  far  as  known,  397. 


Spurious  character  of  later  writings 
concerning  them,  398.  Last  Jewish 
illusion  from  which  their  minds 
were  disenchanted,  430.  Introduc- 
tion of  legendary  accounts  of  their 
missions,  ii.  17.  How  regarded  by 
Simon  Magus  and  his  successors, 
49,  51.  Church  dedicated  to  them, 
337  note.  Pillars  commemorative 
of  them,  353.  Their  portraits  among 
the  earliest  efforts  of  Christian  art, 
iii.  400.  Coustantine's  alleged  rec- 
ognition of  them  in  a  vision,  ibid. 
—  See  also  the  navies  of  the  several 
Apostles. 

Apostles  and  their  substitutes,  as 
rulers  of  the  Church,  ii.  19,  20  note, 
22,  24-27. 

Ap(^stohc  Constitutions,  iii.  263  note, 
265  note,  279  note,  280,  336  note,  372 
note,  383  note,  408  note. 

Apostolic  Creed,  iii.  180. 

Apostolic  succession  and  authority, 
claims  of,  ii.  309,  310;  iii.  261,  262, 
and  notes. 

Apsethus,  a  self-styled  god,  and  his 
parrots,  legend  of,  ii.  54,  54  note. 

Aquila  and  PRisciLL^i,  St.  Paul's 
hosts  and  friends,  i.  408,  428  text 
and  note,  458. 

Arabian  tribes,  fame  of  Abraham 
preserved  by,  ii.  353. 

Arabion,  castle  of,  bestowed  on  Mani, 
ii.  276. 

Aramaic  dialect,  i.  193.  Spoken  in 
Galilee,  221  note.  The  vernacular 
of  Palestine,  365. 

ARAMAZD(Urmuzd),  chief  deity  of  the 
Armenians,  ii.  261.  —  See  Oromazd. 

Arbogastes  confers  the  empire  on 
Eugenius,  iii.  93.  His  influence 
over  Eugenius,  94. 

Arcadius,  Roman  emperor,  iii.  138. 
Splendor  of  his  public  appearances, 
248,  249.  His  laws:  against  mar- 
riage of  Jew  and  Christian,  293 
note;  against  heretics,  304  note; 
against  clerical  interference  with 
civil  laws,  307  note ;  the  theatre 
during  his  sway,  341. 

xIrchangels.  —  See  Angels. 

Archbishops,  rank  and  authority  as- 
signed  to,  iii,  268. —  See  Bishojjs; 
I      LjAscopaci) 

\  Archelaus  (Herod),  state  of  Judaea 
I  at  the  accession  of,  i.  91, 117.  Char- 
:  acter  of  his  reign ;  his  banishment, 
I  139.  His  place  of  banishment,  ii. 
I       147. 

Archelaus,  Bishop  of  Cascar,  alleged 
conference   of  Mani  with,   ii.  276. 


438 


INDEX. 


Question  as  to  place  and  probability, 
268  note,  276  viote. 

Archijiage,  the,  ii.  255. 

Architectuke  summoned  to  the 
service  of  Christianity,  iii.  378,  — 
See  Church. 

Akchon  of  the  Jews,  ii.  21  note. 

Ardeschie  Babhegan  (Artaxerxes 
of  the  Greeks)  restores  the  Persian 
monarchy  and  Zoroastrian  religion, 
ii.  253-255.  His  edict  against  rival 
religions,  256.  His  testamentary 
injunction  to  his  descendants,  257. 
Instigator  of  the  murder  of  Khos- 
rov,  260. 

Areopagus,  Paul's  speech  at  tlie, 
i.  449. 

Areopolis,  Pagan  worship  at,  iii.  70. 

Aretas,  seizure  of  Damascus  bv, 
i.  383. 

Ariaks  and  Arianism.  —  See  Arius. 

Ajeiajs'za  and  Gregory  of  Nazian- 
zum,  iii.  114,  121. 

Aristides,  the  Christian  apologist, 
ii.  109  note,  110. 

Aristides,  the  philosopher,  occasion 
of  an  oration  by,  ii.  143  7iott.  —  See 
iii.  73  note. 

ARiSTOBULUs,object  contemplated  by, 
i.  33  7u>tt. 

Aristocracy  of  Rome,  iii.  249. 
'Iheir  manners,  251.  —  See  Rome. 

Akistomekes,  Julian's  challenge  to, 
ii.  478  7wte. 

Aristophanes,  times  unproductive 
of  an,  ii.  363. 

Aristotle,  Simon  Magus  well  read 
in,  ii.  54  note.  Deilied  by  the  Car- 
pocratians,  83.  His  "sword,"  256 
TWte.  Commencement  of  the  strife 
between  Aristotelianism  and  Pla- 
tonism,  447  note. 

Arius  and  Arianism,  ii.  265.  Con- 
sequences of  divisions  Avith  the 
Athanasians,  355.  Principle  of 
union  among  his  opponents,  363. 
His  personal  appearance,  character, 
and  manners,  364.  His  conflict 
with  the  Patriarch  Alexander  and 
expulsion  iiom  Alexandria,  365. 
Composition  and  stjde  of  his  Thalia, 
365  note.  Character  and  object  of 
his  popular  hymns,  366  note;  iii. 
408.  Espousal  of  his  tenets  by  the 
two  Eusebii,  366.  Tone  of  Constan- 
tine's  reproof  to  him,  ii.  367.  Him- 
self and  adherents  banished,  374. 
Terms  of  the  sentence,  ibid.  note. 
His  party  again  in  favor,  376.  His 
recall  from  banishment,  ibid.  As- 
cendencj'  of  his  supporters  over  the 


emperor,  377.  Their  unjustifiable 
conduct  in  Antioch,  378.  Deter- 
mined refusal  of  his  admission  to 
communion,  379,  380,  385.  His 
sudden  death  paralleled  with  that 
I  of  Judas,  386.  Violence  of  his  fol- 
lowers  in  their  attempts  to  regain 
I  authority,  418.  Their  quarrels  with 
the  Athanasians  in  Constantinople, 
419.  Their  temporary  predomi- 
nance in  Italy,  4:^0.  Their  impe- 
rial champion,  429.  An  increase  to 
their  triumph,  430.  Vengeance 
wreaked  by  them  on  the  Athana- 
sians, 433,  434.  Superiority  ob- 
tained by  them,  446.  Sources  of 
disrepute  br.ought  upon  their  tenets, 
448.  Repudiation  and  subsequent 
adoption  of  their  doctrines,  450. 
I'atality  of  the  triumph,  450.  Con- 
stantius's  error  in  enforcing  the 
predominance  of  their  tenets,  452. 
Emperor  Julian's  high-handed  way 
of  dealing  with  them,  iii.  8,  9. 
Their  re-union  with  the  Church,  23. 
Ascendency  of  Arianism  under  the 
influence  of  Valens,  48.  Refusal 
of  St.  Basil  to  admit  Arians  to 
j  communion,  50,  51.  Prevalence  of 
Arianism  among  the  Goths,  61,  62. 
Arian  churches  prohibited  by  Theo- 
dosiiis,  105.  Arianism  exhausted, 
105,  106.  Suppressed  by  Theophi- 
lus,  107.  i'eriod  of  its  dominance 
at  Constantinople,  118.  Empress 
Justina's  futile  eftbrts  in  its  behalf, 
163.  Arian  Council  of  Antioch,  272 
7iote.  —  See  ii.  410,  417,  423  note, 
424,  425-427,  439,  440  note,  442, 
445,  446  7iote,  447. 
Arles,  Bishop  of,  ii.  307,  308.  Its 
Council,  427 ;  iii.  272  7iote.  Its  or- 
dinance relative  to  priests'  mar- 
1      riages,  285. 

j  Armemia,  number  of  Jews  (A.D.  367) 

I       in,  i.  68  note.     Edicts  resisted  and 

worship    rejected   by    its    church, 

!      ii.  35.     War  made  upon  it  by  JNIaxi- 

I      min,  238.     Magianism  forced  ui>on 

it,    257,  258.      The   lirst   Christian 

I      kingdom,  258.    Persecution  sufl'ered 

!      by  it,  259.      Authors  of  its  histo- 

!      ries,  259.     Murder  of  its  king,  259, 

j      260.     Its  subjugation  and  establish- 

j      ment  as  a  kingdom,  260.     Occasion 

of  its  erection  into  a  Christian  king- 

I      dom,   261,   262.      Monumental   in- 

i       scription     commemorative    of     its 

struggles,   262    note,      lis,    apostle, 

see   Gregory  the  Illuminator.     See 

also  ii.  225,  238,  238  note;  iii.  64. 


INDEX. 


439 


Arnobius,  iii.  356,  393  note. 

Arnuphis,  elemental  manifestation 
superstitiously  attributed  to,  ii.  lib. 

Arsaces,  vestiges  of  the  deification 
of  kings  of  the  line  of,  ii.  252. 

ARSE^'lus,  machinations  of  the  ac- 
cusers of  Athanasius  defeated  by,  ii. 
Sb2,  Zho.  Modes  of  self-torture 
adopted  by  him,  iii.  210. 

Art,  eliect  of  Christianity  on,  iii  252. 
Portraits  of  the  Father,  Saviour, 
Virgui,  Apostles,  &c.,  ol>4-4Ul. 

Artaces,  self-immolations  at  the  fu- 
neral of,  ii.  261. 

Artaxerxes.  —  See  Jrdeschir. 

Artemius,  Duke  of  Egypt,  condemna- 
tion and  death  of,  iii.  21. 

Articles  of  Belief,  period  of  the  in- 
troduction of,  ii.  356.  —  See  Church. 

AscENsio  Isai«,  an  apocryphal  book, 
portions  of  the  Gospel  narrative  con- 
tirmed  by  the,  i.  100  note. 

AscE^;sI<)^',  the,  i.  362. 

AsCETicTSJi,  source  of,  ii.  39,  40. 
Christianity  outbidden  by  Eastern 
Asceticism,  47.  Asceticism  in  Sa- 
turnius's  system,  67.  —  See  Esstnes. 

AsELLA,  selt-denying  devotion  of, 
iii.  236. 

Asia,  cause  of  the  rapid  rise  and  fall 
ol  the  empires  in,  i.  9.  Earthquakes 
temp.  Antonius,  ii.  134.  Last  of  the 
Asiatic  mart\TS,  143.  Martial  jeal- 
ousy of  its  tribes,  401.  Religions 
of  Asia,  see  OritntaUsm. 

Asiatic  hours  of  the  day.  Dr.  Town- 
son's  suggestion  relative  to  the, 
i.   179  iiote.. 

Asia  Minor,  rescript  of  Antonius  to 
the  cities  of,  ii.  113.  Its  cities  the 
source  of  poetico-prophetic  forgeries, 
124.  Violence  of  the  persecutions 
there,  13b.  —  See  ii  36,  95,  106,  147. 
Progress  of  Maximus  through  its 
cities,  iii.  6.  Kesults  of  Chrysos- 
tom's  visit,  142.  —  See  i.  456,  457, 
460,472;  ii.  36,  95,  106,  147,  148; 
iii   81,  114,  214. 

AsiARCHS,  functions  of  the,  i.  461, 
462,  notes.  Attempt  of  one  to  avert 
the  martyrdom  of  i^olycarp,  ii.  141. 
Law  trom  which  they  were  exempt- 
ed, iii.  337,  338, 

Assos.  Paul  takes  ship  at,  i.  463. 

AsTARTE,  Queen  of  Heaven,  and  her 
attributes,  i.  70;  ii.  178.  —  See  Dea 
ccelesiis. 

AsTERius  Amasenus,  illustrated  cita- 
tion trom,  iii.  295  note  1. 

Astrologers,  their  influence  among 
the  Komans,  i.  50,  51. 


Asylum,  right  of,  restricted  by  Eu- 
tropius,  iii.  138.  Its  original  object 
and  gradual  abuse,  138,  189. 

AthAjS'asius,  St.,  controversial  point 
admitted  by,  ii.  372  note.  His  ac- 
cusation against  Arians  and  Semi- 
Ariaus,  374  note.  His  antecedents, 
379.  Elevated  to  the  Patriarchate 
of  x\.lex:indria,  ibid.  Braves  all  dan- 
gers to  establish  the  supremacy  of 
his  own  opinions,  380.  Kuse  by 
which  a  charge  against  him  Avas 
disproved,  ibid,  note  2.  Multiplicity 
of  charges  against  him,  381.  His 
refutation  of  a  "dead  hand"  accu- 
sation, 362,  383.  Charge  on  which 
he  Avas  deposed  from  his  see,  383. 
Confronts  and  demands  justice  of 
Constantine,  ibid.  xs'ew  charge 
against  him  and  sentence  thereon, 
383-385.  His  argument  from  the 
death  of  Arius,  386  note.  Opposi- 
tion and  ultimate  consent  of  the 
Emperor  to  his  recall  ti'om  banish- 
ment, 386,  3b7.  His  imperial  and 
local  partisans  and  opponents,  410, 
418.  His  inflexible  pursuit  of  his 
object  and  triumphant  entry  into 
Alexandria,  415,  416.  Result  of 
the  councils  held  at  Tyre  and  Anti- 
och,  416,  417.  Again  an  exile,  and 
in  Rome;  his  influence  there,  418. 
Etiect  of  the  controversy  initiated 
by  him,  420.  His  accusers  sum- 
moned to  Rome,  421.  His  case 
submitted  to  a  council  at  Sardica; 
result  of  same,  422,  423.  His  tri- 
umphal re-entry  into  Alexandria 
in  company  with  Constantius,  423, 
424.  Constantius  again  his  enemy 
and  accu.ser,  427-429.  Orders  issued 
for  his  removal,  431.  Scene  in  his 
ciiurch  on  his  attempted  arrest: 
his  escape,  432,  433.  Treatment 
of  his  followers  by  the  Arians,  434, 
435.  His  asceticism  in  his  forced 
solitude,  436.  His  admiration  for 
Lucifer  of  Cagliari,  438.  Contempt 
for  the  emperor  shown  in  his  Epis- 
tle to  the  Solitaries,  438,  439.  His 
inflexible  orthodoxy,  440.  Style 
and  character  of  his  writings,  442, 
443.  His  return  from  exile  under 
and  re-banishment  b}'^  Julian,  iii. 
23.  Received  Avith  faA^or  bv  Jovian, 
36.  His  fifth  exile  and  death,  48. 
His  pause  in  polemic  warfare,  206 
nijte.  Not  an  advocate  for  church 
music,  408.  — See  ii.  355",  44U,  445, 
445-447;  iii.  5,  155,  202,  285, 
372. 


440 


INDEX. 


Athanasius,  Arian  Bishop  of  Ana- 
zarba,  ii.  448.  j 

Atheism,   Christians  charged  with,  j 
ii.  16,  148,  183.  ! 

Athenagokas,  piinciple  regarding 
clerical  marriages  laid  down  by,  iii. 
283  note. 

Athens,  i.  443.  Character  of  its 
Paganism,  447.  Paul's  harangue 
to  its  citizens,  449-452.  Impulse 
given  to  its  Paganism  by  Julian, 
iii.  15.  Preserved  from  Alaric  by 
Minerv-a,  82  note.  —  See  ii.  108, 113, 
1S8,  355;  iii.  81. 

Atlas  of  the  Greeks,  the  Homopho- 
rus  of  Mani,  ii.  264,  272,  ibid.  note. 

.\ttalus,  a  Phiygian  convert,  mar- 
tyred, ii.  149,  150.  His  vision  in 
prison,  164  note. 

■  Attalus,  the  Pagan  emperor,  iii.  100. 

Attici  of  Rome,  the,  ii.  44. 

Augurs,  their  "occupation  gone,"  i. 
36. 

Augusteum,  the,  Constantinople,  ii. 
337. 

AuGUSTi,  the,  sharers  of  Roman 
power,  ii.  210,  226,  283.  Impolicy 
of  the  system,  246. 

Augustine,  St.,  i.  36.  Main  argu- 
ment of  his  I)e  Civitate  Dei.,  ibid 
note.  Its  occasion  and  contents,  iii. 
187-192.  Inference  from  his  quota- 
tion from  Seneca,  i.  442  note.  On 
Nero's  expected  re-appearance  as 
Antichrist,  ii.  127  note.  Influence 
of  African  Christianity  upon  him, 
ii.  164;  iii.  107.  His  escape  from 
Manicheanism,  ii.  278;  iii.  184-186. 
His  own  words  on  the  subject,  ii. 
278  note.  Pagan  rites  at  which  he 
was  present,  iii.  83  note.  His  ques- 
tion to  the  Donatists,  95  note. 
Against  the  forcible  demolition  of 
heathen  temples,  98  note.  At  issue 
with  himself  on  the  subject  of  mira- 
cles, 165  note.  Most  influential  of 
all  Christian  writers  since  the  apos- 
tles, 175,  182.  Modern  religious 
systems  based  upon  his  writings, 
175,  176.  Characteristics  of  his 
theology,  175-181;  181,  182,  notes. 
His  mental  energy  and  extent  of 
his  learning,  182,  183.  His  life  the 
type  of  his  theology,  183.  Popu- 
larity of  his  confessions,  183.  His 
parentage  and  vouthful  excesses, 
184,  185.  Influence  of  St.  Paul's 
writings  and  Ambrose's  eloquence 
upon  him,  186.  Baptism  of  him- 
self and  his  natural  son,  187.  Un- 
eventfulness  of  his  life,  192,  193. 


His  end,  194.  His  notion  of  celi- 
bacy, 202.  Subject  of  his  dispute 
with  Jerome,  237.  His  admiration 
for  baptism.  320,  321,  notes.  His 
reply  to  a  Manichean  taunt,  331. 
His  youthful  delight  in  theatrical 
exhibitions,  341,  342  note.  On  the 
effect  of  gladiatorial  shows,  348, 
349.  On  the  personal  appearance  of 
Christ  and  the  Virgin,  391-3^3, 398- 
400.  His  opinion  on  church  music, 
410.  Geographical  dogma  of  his 
alleged  against  Columbus,  422.  His 
allegation  relative  to  saint-worship, 
426  note.  —  See  ii.  315.  Citations 
from  or  references  to  his  writings,  i. 
43  note,  47  note;  iii.  278  note.,  283 
note,  293  note,  299  note,  319  note, 
327  note,  331  note,  338  note,  339 
note,  356,  368,  370  note,  372,  380 
note,  393  note,  397  note,  398  note., 
400  note,  408  note,  409  note. 

Augustus  Cesar's  reign,  why  re- 
markable, i.  9.  His  deification,  37 
note.  Astrologers  banished  by  him, 
51.  His  decree  for  a  census  or 
Palestine,  and  controversy  concern- 
ing it,  108.  109.  His  rescript  for 
the  protection  of  the  Jews,  457. 
His  attempt  to  hmit  the  right  of 
divorce,  iii.  294.  —  See  i.  448 ;  ii.  10, 
131. 

Aurelian,  human  sacrifices  imder,  i. 
34  note.  His  name  among  those  of 
the  persecuting  emperors,  ii.  131 
note.  Hostilities  against  the  Chris- 
tians under  him,  2U3-206,  207. 

Aurelius,  Marcus.  —  See  Marcus  Ati- 
relius. 

Aurelius  Victor's  character  of  Ju- 
lian, iii.  31  7iote. 

AuTOPHYES  the  Mon  and  his  con- 
sort, ii.  74. 

AuxENTius,  contest  for  the  bishopric 
vacated  by  the  death  of,  iii.  157. 

Avars,  Greek  verses  on  the  victory 
over  the.  iii.  431  note. 

AviDius  Cassius,  a  competitor  for  the 
empire,  ii.  136.  Period  of  his  re- 
bellion, 146  7iote. 

AxuM,  Mr.  Salt's  discovery  in  the 
ruins  of,  ii.  404  7i<>te. 

Aziz,  King  of  Emesa,  his  reason  for 
submitting  to  circumcision,  i.  403 
note. 


B. 


Baal,  worship  of,  i.  70. 
Baalbec,  stvle  of  the  temple  at,  ih 
345,  350. 


INDEX. 


441 


Baalpeor,  introduction  into  Rome 
of  the  rites  of,  ii.  176. 

Babylas,  Bishop  of  Antioch,  worship 
of  the  relics  of,  ii.  192.  Probable 
period  of  his  martyrdom,  and  tri- 
umphant removal  of  his  remains, 
iii.  19.  —  See  ii.  192  note. 

Babylon,  efforts  to  identify  Rome 
with,  i.  69  note.  The  Babylon  of 
the  West,  468.  Apocalyptic  refer- 
ence to  its  fall,  ii.  120. 

Babylonia,  i.  66.  History  a  blank 
relative  to  the  settlement  of  the 
Jev/.s  there,  67.  Influence  exercised 
by  them  on  its  kings,  people,  and 
religion,  68,  69.  Communications 
between  it  and  Judaea,  114  note. 
Pestilence  ascribed  to  the  plunder 
of  one  of  its  temples,  ii.  135.  Early 
progress  of  Christian  Hv,  and  resi- 
dence of  St.  Peter  there,  252,  253. 
Zoroastrian  persecutions,  257.  Mar- 
tvrdom  of  its  Christian  bishops, 
254.  — See  i.  72  note;  ii.  95,  1U2, 
267,  276. 

Bacchus,  ii.  99. 

Bacchus  Omestes,  human  sacrifices 
to,  i.  34  note. 

Bacthlv,  i.  72 ;  ii.  255. 

Bagni.v,  battle  of,  ii.  314. 

Bahakam,  Mani  slain  by,  ii.  277. 

Bai.e,  Bay  of,  a  place  of  retirement 
for  wealthy  Romans,  ii.  211. 

Balk,  country  of  the  modern  Af- 
ghans, ii.  2.54. 

Bampton  Lectures.  —  See  Cunybeare; 
MUman. 

Baptism  and  similar  rites,  i.  144. 
Antiquity  of  its  use  among  the 
Jews,  144,  145.  Charge  against 
Chrysostom  in  reference  to  it,  iii. 
144  note.  Rebaptism  of  heretics,  ii. 
193  note.  Manicheau  baptism,  274. 
Constantine's  tardy  submission  to 
it,  3b7,  3bb.  Privileges  of  the  bap- 
tized, iii.  319.  Times  and  mode  of 
its  administration,  320,  321.  Bap- 
tism of  actors,  346.  Symbolic 
representations  of  the  rite,  389 
Wile. 

Baptistery,  the,  iii.  321. 

Barabbas,  probable  history  of,  i.  336. 
His  release  demanded,  337. 

Barbarian  captive  chiefs,  exposure 
in  the  gladiatorial  arena  of,  ii.  293, 
325;  iii.  349.  Crispus's  campaign 
against  them,  ii.  326. 

Barbaiuans,  term  applied  by  the 
Jews  to  the  Greeks,  i.  294. 

Bakbeykac,  passages  on  clerical  mar- 
riages collected  by,  iii.  283  note. 


Barchochab,  Jewish  chief,  successes 
of,  i.  148  note.     His  defeat,  433. 

Bardesanes,  the  poet  of  Gnorlicism, 
ii.  61,  77.  Long  popularity  and 
character  of  his  hymns,  77.  Iden- 
tity of  their  nimiber  with  the  Psalms 
of  David,  78  note.  His  system  of 
jEons  or  Emanations,  78,  79.  The 
disenchanter  of  the  popular  ear 
fi'om  his  heretical  strains,  iii.  109. 
His  hymns  probably  furnished  with 
musical  accompaniments,  4U8. 

Bar-Jesus.  —  See  Elymas. 

Barkaph,  prophecies  of,  ii.  68. 

Barnabas,  character  and  influence 
of,  i.  384.  Espouses  the  cause  of 
Paul,  ibid.  Arrival  of  himself  and 
Paul  at  Jerusalem,  386.  His  enrol- 
ment among  the  apostles,  392.  His 
association  with  Paul  in  Missionary 
labors,  see  Paul.  Separates  him- 
self from  Paul,  406. 

Baronius,  illustrative  citations  from, 
iii.  1U5  note.,  282  note. 

Barrow,  Dr.,  i.  475  note. 

Bartholomew,  St.,  the  apostle,  i. 
160,  221,  398.  —  See  Nathanael. 

Basil,  St.,  points  in  the  character 
of,  iii.  49.  His  dignified  replies  to 
the  emissary  of  V^aleus,  50.  His 
reception  of  Valens  himself,  ibid. 
Result  attributed  to  his  prayers,  51. 
"Vein  of  Orientalism  in  his  writings, 
106,  Estimate  put  on  his  Avritings 
by  his  contemporaries.  111.  Effect 
of  his  infiueuce  on  coenobitic  insti- 
tutions, ibid.  His  parentage  and 
student  life;  injurious  ettect  of  his 
ascetic  fervor,  112.  Rules  and  prac- 
tices of  his  monasteries,  113.  His 
conduct  in  his  archbishoiDric,  114. 
His  death;  style  of  his  composi- 
tions, ibid.  His  views  on  clerical 
marriage,  283,  283  note.  An  ad- 
mirer of  baptism,  320  note.  On  an 
incident  connected  with  the  mar- 
tyrdom of  Gordius,  339  note.  His 
opinion  of  human  beauty,  393. 
Change  in  the  Saviom-'s  portraiture 
introduced  by  the  monks  of  his 
order,  404.  His  eulogy  on  the  forty 
martyrs,  426  note.  —  See  ii.  465. 

Basilicas,  or  halls  of  j  ustice,  their 
adaptability  for  Christian  worship, 
ii.  346-348;  iii.  378.  Appropriate- 
ness of  the  name  for  the  purpose, 
379..—  See  ii.  370,  ibid.  note. 

Basileus,  disputed  question  as  to  the 
martyrdom  of,  ii.  321  note. 

Basilides  the  Gnostic,  ii.  61.  His 
teachers;  sources  of  his  doctrines, 


442 


INDEX. 


68.  His  Deity  and  iEons,  and  their 
attributes,  70,"  71.  His  curious  the- 
ory of  Christ  and  his  sacriticed  sub- 
stitute, 72.  —  See  68  note,  72. 

Basilius,  deceived  into  a  bishopric, 
iii.  125. 

Basnage,  references  to  the  writings 
of,  ii.  12  note;  iii.  282,  399,  notes. 

Bassi,  embracement  of  Christianity 
by  the,  iii.  96. 

Batii-Kol.,  or  voice  from  heaven,  i. 
295  note. 

Batne,  reception  of  Julian  at,  iii.  30. 

Battle  in  llie  night,  a  theological, 
ii.  373. 

Battles:  Bagnia,  ii.  314.  Cibalai, 
ii.  319.  Hadrianople,  ii.  323.  jMar- 
dia,  ii.  319,  Milvian  Bridge,  ii. 
293.  Mursa,  ii.  425.  Pollentia,  iii 
98.  Thapsus,  ii.  162.  Verona,  ii. 
285. 

Beausobre's  estimate  of  Simon  Ma- 
gus, ii.  50,  52 

Belgium  ravaged  by  the  Catti,  ii.  135. 

Benedict,  St.,  Apollo-worship  de- 
stroyed by,  iii.  102.  Founder  of 
monastic  communities  in  Italy,  214. 

Bentley's  reading  of  ;i;o^p£ia,  flaw 
in,  i.  405  note. 

Bekea,  separation  of  Paul  from  Ti- 
motheus  and  Silas  at,  i.  448. 

Bekmice,  Agrippa's  sister,  how  ob- 
tained by  Polemo,  i.  402  note.  Her 
entry  Avith  her  brother,  417. 

Bertholdt,  character  of  the  writings 
of,  i.  64  note. 

Bethahara,  John  the  Baptist's  sta- 
tion on  the  Jordan,  i.  143. 

BETHA:^;Y  (Beth-haua),  derivation  of 
the  name,  i.  317  note. 

Betiiesda,  healing  of  the  sick  at  the 
pool  of,  i.  212. 

Bethlehem,  sanctity  attached  to,  i. 
1(18.  Desecration  of  its  gate  by  the 
Eomans,  433.  Pilgrimage  of  the 
whole  u-orld  thither,  iii.  196  note. 
Jerome's  cell  there,  237. 

Bethrhage,  etymology  of,  i.  317 
note. 

Bethsaida,  i.  188,  221,  269.  Retire- 
ment of  Jews  into  its  adjacent  des- 
ert. 235. 

Beugnot's  work  on  the  Destruction 
of  Paganism  in  the  West,  character 
of,  iii.  71  note.  Illustrative  refer- 
ences to,  or  citations  from,  him,  83, 
86,  101,  102,  360,  not<iS. 

Bigotry,  cruel  instance  of,  iii.  215 
note.  Classes  furnishing  its  sternest 
executioners,  216. 

Bingham,  Joseph,  illustrative  refer- 


ences to  the  writings  of,  iii.  101, 
267,  269,  282,  312,  321,  323,  837, 
SeO,  406,  409,  notes. 

Bishops,  institution  of,  ii.  19,  20. 
Nature  of  their  authority,  26. 
Their  ordination,  31.  When  first 
called  pontiffs.  32.  Arbiters  of  dis- 
putes, 117.  Apostolic  representa- 
tion and  something  more  claimed 
for  them,  ii.  20  note,  302;  iii.  261. 
Their  s}  nods  under  Constantine,  ii. 
299.  Regular  attendants  upon  the 
court,  316.  Licinius's  conduct  to- 
wards tiiem,  320.  Bishops,  metro- 
politan and  rural,  their  respective 
rank  and  functions,  iii  267-269. — 
See  Archbishops ;  Clercjy;  Ejnsco- 
pdcy. 

Bithynia,  the  scene  of  the  first  in- 
roads of  Christianity  on  Polytheism, 
ii.  95.  Early  success  of  Christianity 
there,  101. 

Bithy:niarchs,  iii.  337. 

Blandina,  social  status  of,  ii.  150. 
Her  heroism  under  martyrdom,  150, 
151. 

Blasphemy  charged  on  Jesus,  i.  215, 
260,  322,  338.  On  Stephen,  375. 
Its  legal  punishment,  386  7i(>te. 

Blesilla,  St.  Jerome's  beatific  prom- 
ise to,  iii.  215. 

Blind,  restoration  by  Jesus  of  the, 
and  injunctions  laid  by  Him  on  the 
cured,  i  233,  248,  261-263.  Sab- 
bath relief  to  the  affliction  specially 
prohibited,  263  note. 

Blood,  Judajo-Christian  tenet  of  ab- 
stinence from,  ii.  148.  Prevalence 
of  the  tenet  among  the  early  Chris- 
tians, ibid.  note. 

Boanerges,  Sons  of  Thunder,  two 
disciples  so  named,  i.  221. 

BoiiLEN,  commendatory  reference  to 
a  work  of,  ii.  35  note,  45  7ude. 

Boldetti  on  Pagan  burials  and 
usages,  iii.  324,  326,  329,  notes. 
Painting  of  the  Saviour  discovered 
by  him,  396 

Bona,  Cardinal,  on  the  progressive 
changes  in  the  representations  of  the 
Cross  and  the  Saviour,  iii.  403. 

Bona  Dea,  orgies  of  the,  i.  35. 

Boniface  IV.,  dedication  of  the  Pan- 
theon to  the  Virgin  by,  iii.  102. 

Bosio's  Eoma  Sotttrana,  iii.  337,  389, 
notes. 

BosPHORUS,  a  rival  Rome  on  the 
shores  of  the,  ii.  333,  339.  — See 
Constantinople. 

BoTHERic,  imperial  representative, 
insulted,  iii.  170. 


INDEX. 


443 


BoTTARi  Pitture  e  Sculture  Sacre,  iii. 
396  note.  Picture  of  the  Virgin 
figured  by,  3yy  imte. 

BoTTiGEK  on  representations  of  the 
deaths  of  martyrs,  iii.  33U  iiute. 

BouK^'oUF,  value  of  works  by,  i.  75 
nute. 

Beahma  and  Brahminism;  excuse 
for  teaching  idolatry  to  the  com- 
mon people,  i.  23  nute.  Point  of 
resemblance  between  Platonism  and 
Brahminism,  42.  The  great  pri- 
mal spirit  of  the  system,  Vt*  note. 
Its  divine  word,  oO.  Active  power 
of  Brahma,  8U  nUe.  Sanscrit  signi- 
tication  of  Brahmin,  172  uute.  hle- 
mentary  principle  of  higher  Brah- 
minism, ii.  o<3.  Portion  of  the  Di- 
vinity from  which  the  Brahmen 
sprmig,  3y  nute.  —  See  ii.  b»,  lib, 
2by. 

Bright's  "History  of  the  Church," 
ii,  31U  note. 

Britain,  civilizing  influence  of  the 
Itomans  in,  i.  lu.  As  to  St.  Paul's 
alleged  visit,  470,  note  2.  Visited 
by  Hadrian,  ii.  1U7.  Disturbances, 
135.  Settled  by  Severus,  157.  Its 
representative  in  the  !Nicene  Coun- 
cil, 3by.     See  ii.  17,  24tj,  2ft2,  2.>5. 

Broglie,  De,  on  Origen  and  Tertul- 
lian,  ii.  1(57  note. 

Brosses,  De,  theory  of  the  Egyptian 
religion  by,  i.  24  note. 

Brucker  on  the  physical  knowledge 
of  the  Fathers,  iii.  422,  423,  nutts. 

BiiDDHisn,  characteristics  of,  i.  1U2 
nute.  Tradition  of  the  birth  of 
Buddh,  103  nute;  ii.  265  note. 
Elementary  principle  of  the  sys- 
tem, ii.  o«.  Primary  theory  of  the 
Buddhist,  39.  Female  contact  un- 
lawful, 41  nute.  —  See  ii.  252,  263, 
263  nute,  275. 

Bu^siEN,  important  fact  established 
by,  ii.  48  note.  —  See  also  55  note.,  6y 
note.,  83  note;  iii.  84  note.,  262  nute, 
364  note. 

BuoNAROTTi  on  vases  found  in  Chris- 
tian cemeteries,  iii.  3yu  note. 

BuRGUNDiANS,  form  of  Christianity 
embraced  by  the,  iii.  61. 

Burial  customs  and  symbols  among 
the  ancient  heathens  and  early 
Christians,  iii.  323-325,  325,  326, 
388,  389,  notes. 

BuR^iET  and  Misson,  Protestant  trav- 
ellers, erroneous  inference  of,  iii.  389 
')iote. 

BuItTO^',  Dr.,  on  the  chronology  of 
Christ's  life,  i.  112  note.     His  in- 


genious suggestion  relative  to  the 

Samaritans,  ii.  Ill  note. 
BuTHios,  the  Valentinian  ^on,  ii. 

74. 
Bythos,  a  name  of  the  Father  in 

Valentinus's    system,    ii.    73,  ibid. 

nott.      Produce   of   the   Jions,   73 

note. 
Byzantium  razed  to  the  ground  by 

Severus,    ii.    335,    336.      Oracular 

prediction,  339  note.  —  See  Constan- 

tinujjle. 


Caaba  of  Mecca,  the,  ii.  353. 

Cabal.v,  source  of  the,  i.  69.  Its 
early  origin  and  contents,  70.  Prac- 
tisers  ol  the  cabalistic  art  among 
the  Jews,  459,  460.  The  cabalistic 
Sephiroth,  ii.  37,  69.  Cabalism  a 
modiiying  element  in  Gnosticism, 
65,  :^64. 

C.EDMOX.  —  See  Adam  Ccedmon. 

C.ecilia,  St.,  burial-place  of  the  re- 
mains of,  iii.  389  note. 

C.ECILIAN  raised  to  the  see  of  Car- 
thage, ii.  305.  Opjjosed  by  the 
Donatists;  charges  against  him, 
305.  Kecriminations  of  the  two 
parties,  ou7.  Decision  of  the  Coun- 
cil, 3oy.  His  ordination  still  denied, 
315.  Tenor  of  Constantines  letter 
to  him,  318. 

C.ELESTius,  colleague  of  Pelagius,  iii. 
181  7iute. 

CAESAR,  false  prophecies  of  astrolo- 
gers to,  i.  50.  "■  Pender  unto  Cse- 
sar,"'  »&c.,  300  note.  —  See  C'cesars. 

C.ESAREA,  conflict  of  Jews  and  Greeks 
at,  i.  193  nute.  Paul's  imprison- 
ment, 463,  464 ;  Gregory,  the  Apos- 
tle of  Armeniii,  baptized  there,  ii. 
260.  Pagan  cruelties,  iii.  14.  Ju- 
lian's visit  to,  and  proceedings  in, 
the  city,  50,  51.  Basil's  connection 
with  It,  112.  Its'  archiepiscopate 
conferred  on  him,  114.  ^Marriage 
ordinance  of  the  Council  of  Neo- 
Ca^sarea,  284  7wte.  Its  bishop,  see 
jb^ustOius. 

C^ESARius,  brother  of  Gregory  of  Na- 
zianzum,  iii.  286. 

C.ESARius,  delegate  of  Theodosius. 
—  See  Helldbidius. 

CAESARS,  the  first  period  occupied  by 
the  line  of,  ii.  6.  Apociyphal  refer- 
ence to  the  twelve  Caesars,  121. 
Sibylline  prophecy,  125.  A  mourn- 
ftil  birthday  pleasantry,  174.    Dio- 


444 


INDEX. 


cletian's  two  Ccesars,  210,  225,  226, 
283.  — See  ii.  145,  222,  282,  300. 
See  Augustus ;  Julius  C'cesar. 

'^CvESAKS,"  the;  character  of  Ju- 
lian's works  so  called,  iii.  6. 

Caiaphas,  motives  of,  lor  urging  the 
sacrifice  of  Jesus,  i.  276,  288.  Jesus 
arraigned  before  him,  319-321.  His 
condact  on  the  occasion,  322. 

(Jain,  Gnostic  symbolizations  of,  ii. 
76. 

Calendar,  Heathen,  festival  regula- 
tions of  the,  iii.  335. 

Caligula,  i.  68.  His  persecution  of 
the  JcAvs,  385,  470. 

Callimachus  the  model  of  Proper- 
tius,  i.  51  note. 

Callinicum,  burning  of  the  Jewish 
synagogue  at,  iii.  168. 

Callistus,  real  cemetery  of,  ii.  192 
nuie.  Early  Christian  symbols  found 
in  the  catacomb  of,  iii.  389  nute. 
Kepresentations  of  the  Saviour  and 
the  Virgin  on  its  walls,  396,  398, 
399. 

Calvary,  erroneous  notion  regard- 
ing, i.  341  note.  —  See  358. 

Calvin's  obligations  to  St.  Augus- 
tine, iii.  176. 

Cambyses,  conduct  in  I^gypt  of,  i.  12 
nute. 

Campus  Martius,  strange  scene  in  the, 
ii.  136  note. 

Cana,  anti-Essenian  nature  of  the 
miracle  at  the  marriage  feast  at, 
i.  161. 

Canaanites,  Marcion's  use  of  the 
massacre  of  the,  ii.  81. 

Candace,  Queen  of  Ethiopia,  con- 
version of  the  officer  of,  i.  378. 

Canidia,  or  Erictho,  practices  of,  still 
surviving,  iii.  103. 

Canopus,  destruction  of  the  idola- 
trous worship,  and  end  of  the  rev- 
els of,  iii.  bl.  Why  called  "con- 
queror of  the  gods,"  81  note. 

Capernaum,  site  and  recommenda- 
tions of  i.  163,  187.  — See  ii.  82. 

Capitation  tax  on  the  Jews,  altered 
circumstances  of  the  levy  of  the, 
ii.  11,  12. 

Capitol,  reproduction  at  Constanti- 
nople of  the,  ii.  337. 

Capitoline,  Jupiter.  —  See  Jupiter 
C(i]/it"linus. 

Capitolinus,  strange  story  of  an 
impostor  told  by,  ii.  135,  ibid, 
note. 

Cappadocia,  dialect  of,  i.  444.  —  See 
ii.  160.  Celebrated  natives,  see 
Basil;      George    of     Cappadocia; 


Gregory  of  Nazianzum;  Gregory 
of  Nyssa ;   Ulphilas. 

Caracalla,  ii.  152.  Contrast  be- 
tween his  youthful  disposition  and 
later  conduct,  158.  Effect  of  ex- 
tension of  civic  rights  by  him,  210 
note,  245.  —  See  ii.  176. 

Caramalus  the  dancer,  iii.  345. 

Cardwell,  Dr.,  on  the  visit  of  St. 
Paul  to  Brit.'iin,  i.  470  note. 

Carpocrates,  system  and  objects  of 
worship  of  the"  followers  of,  ii.  84. 
Cdiousnei--s  of  their  heresy,  84,  89. 
Community  of  women  among  them, 
84  note.  A  charitable  commentator 
on  their  practices,  90  note. 

Carrh.e,  reception  of  Julian  at,  iii.  30. 

Carthage,  extinction  of  the  older  re- 
ligion of,  ii.  163.  Character  of  the 
city  under  its  Roman  conquerors, 
ibid.  Tertullian's  prophetic  threat, 
167.  Active  charity  of  the  Chris- 
tians during  a  plague,  199.  Un- 
charitable return  of  the  Heathen 
party,  199.  Occasion  of  its  devas- 
tation by  IMaxentius,  286.  Dispute 
for  its  bishopric,  and  schism  thereby 
generated,  301,  304-307.  St.  Au- 
gustine's revelry  in  its  pleasures,  iii. 
184.  — See  ii.  im  note,  168  note,  178, 
193,  210,  287.  Heferences  to  decis- 
ions and  ordinances  of  its  councils, 
ii.  193,  197,  313  n«te;  iii.  276  note, 
280  note,  2bl  note,  283  note,  285,  288 
note,  315  wte,  332,_  336,  372  note. 
Its  bishops,  see  Ccecilian ;  Cyprian  ; 
Ditnatus ;   Mensurius. 

Casaubon,  passage  misunderstood 
by,  ii.  Ill  note.  Other  references 
to,  iii.  319,  322,  notes. 

Cascar,  or  Cashgar,  scene  of  an 
alleged  conference  between  Arche- 
laus  and  Mani,  ii.  268  note,  276,  276 
note. 

Cas.^s  Nigr.e.  —  See  Donatus. 

Casino,  Mount,  i\lS.  account  of  a 
martyrdom  found  at,  ii.  168  note. 
Destruction  of  idolatrous  Avorship 
there,  iii.  102. 

Casius,  Mount,  ii.  \0S  note.  Julian's 
idol-worship  on,  iii.  18. 

Cassian,  story  of  unnatural  asceti- 
cism told  by,  iii.  215  note.  Cita- 
tions from  his  ''  Institutes,"  204, 
213,  214,  226,  408,  notes. 

Cassiodorus,  i.  Ill  note;  iii.  337, 
338,  352,  notes. 

Cassius,  competitor  of  Severus,  ii. 
119.  —  See  Avidius  Cassius. 

Castor  and  I'oUux,  temple  of,  and 
their  statues,  ii.  336. 


INDEX. 


445 


Catacombs,  paintings  in,  iii.  329  note^ 
389,  390,  notes,  402,  403,  403  7iote. 
Alleged  residences  of  early  Chris- 
tians, 333-334  note.  Mortuary 
chapels,  333-334  wore.— See  Buri- 
als. 

Catechumens  in  the  Manichean  sys- 
tem, ii.  277.  Their  position  in  the 
Church,  346.  In  Christian  baptism, 
iii.  321. 

Cathkdral  chant  of  England,  sys- 
tem preserved  in  the,  iii.  410  note. 

Catholic  Faith  promulgated  by 
Theodosius,  iii.  104. 

Catholics,  collision  of  the  Donatists 
-with  the,  ii.  307-310,  313  note,  315 
note.  Charges  of  the  latter  against 
them,  310  note,  314.  Their  exulta- 
tion on  the  death  of  Arius,  386. 
Alleged  murder  of  a  party  ol  them, 
iii.  49. 

Catonism  more  obnoxious  to  Vespa- 
sian than  Christianity,  ii.  11. 

Catti,  Belgium  ravaged  by  the,  ii. 
135. 

Celibacy,  element  confirmatory  of 
the  sanctity  of,  i.  105.  Its  parent, 
ii.  40.  The  line  of  demarcation  be- 
tTveen  Christian  and  Heathen,  41. 
Period  of  its  exaltation  by  the 
Church,  42.  Condemned  by  Clem- 
ent of  Alexandria,  42  note ;  iii. 
281-283.  Relaxation  of  laws  un- 
favorable to  it,  ii.  4u3.  Advocated 
by  Ambrose,  iii.  157.  Point  passed 
over  by  controversialists,  201  note. 
How  regarded  by  the  Fathers  of  the 
Chxu-ch,  202.  Cause  of  its  continu- 
ance and  final  recognition,  226. 
Not  compulsorj'-  on  the  clergy  dur- 
ing the  first  three  centuries,  281, 
282.  Commencement  of  its  enforce- 
ment on  them,  283.  Kegulatiuu  of 
the  Council  in  Trullo,  286.  Evils 
generated  by  its  enforcement,  286, 
2S7. 

Celsus,  his  mode  of  reconciling  Pa- 
ganism with  Christianity,  ii.  185, 
186.  —  See  i.  117  note. 

Celts.  —  See  Kelts. 

Cemeteries  of  the  early  Christians, 
sanctity  of  the,  ii.  351.'^ — See  BuH- 
ah ;   Catacombs. 

Centukion's  servant  healed  by  Je- 
sus, i.  223. 

Ceremonial,  religious  —See  Church ; 
Religion. 

Ceres,  fable  of,  i.  21.—  See  ii.  175. 

Cerinthus,  legend  of  St.  John  and, 
ii.  18.  His  descent  and  education, 
59.    Peculiarities  of  the  system  con- 


cocted by  him,  59,  60.  Ascription 
of  the  authorship  of  the  "  Apoca- 
lypse "  to  him,  61  note.  Modifying 
influence  on  his  opinions,  63: 

Chalcedon,  Council  of,  laws  promul- 
gated by,  iii.  105,  266  note.  Its 
bishop,  see  Maris. 

Chaldeans,  doctrine  taken  by  the 
Greeks  from  the,  i.  48.  Their  in- 
fluence as  astrologers,  50.  Con- 
sulted by  Marcus  Aurelius,  ii.  132. 
An  admission  of  his  concerning 
them,  146  n:'te.  Mani's  boiTO wings 
from  them,  264.  —  See  ii.  37,  78,  80. 

Cham,  prophecies  of,  ii.  68. 

Champagny,  M.  de,  on  the  alleged 
correspondence  between  St.  Paul 
and  Seneca,  i.  456  note. 

Chants  of  tho  Italian  and  Roman 
churches,  iii.  410.  Cathedral  chant 
of  Kugland,  410  note. 

Chaos  in  the  Uphitic  sj'-stem,  ii.  85. 

Chariot  races,  massacre  arising  out 
of,  iii.  170,  171.  —  See  Circus. 

Chaklejiagne  and  art,  iii.  377. 

Chastel,  Etienne,  cnmmendatory 
notice  of  a  work  bv,  iii.  71  note. 
—  See  abo  82,  151, "346,  notes. 

Chateaubriand,  theory  of  Chris- 
tianity sketclied  by,  i.  57  note. 

Chifflet,  Gnostic  images  in  the  col- 
lection of,  iii.  395  note. 

Children.  —  See  Infants. 

Chilon,  charge  of  sorcery  made  by, 
iii.  41. 

China,  higher  classes  less  idolatrous 
than  the  common  people  in,  i.  23 
note.  Dogma  of  the  creation  un- 
der their  system,  79  notes.  Its 
Christian  communities,  ii.  35.  Its 
ascetics,  39.  —  See  252,  267. 

Chios  visited  by  Paul,  i.  463. 

Chorepiscopi,  or  rural  bishops,  es- 
tablishment of,  iii.  267,  268.  —  See 
ii.  205. 

Christ.  —  See  Jesus  Christ. 

Christianity,  epoch  of  the  appear- 
ance of,  i.  11.  Its  universality; 
favorableness  of  the  times  for  its 
propagation,  15.  Social  element 
peculiar  to  it,  16.  New  era  nii- 
nounced  by  the  appearance  of  its 
Divine  Author,  ibid.  Curious 
charge  of  the  Chinese  elite  n gainst 
its  missionaries,  23  note.  Revolu- 
tion eflected  by  it,  52.  Character- 
istic distinction  of  this  revolution, 
ibid.  Admixture  of  Heathen  rites 
and  usages,  53.  Design  of  this 
work,  54,  55.  Phases  of  Christian- 
ity at  different  epochs,  56.    Its  as- 


446 


INDEX. 


pect  among  barbarian  believers,  ^'Ji-i. 
Among  the  Abyssinians,  ibid.  note. 
Not  a  self-developed  system,  nor  to 
be  accounted  lor  on  any  ordinary 
principles,  57,  58.  Emotion  natu- 
ral to  so  great  an  event,  58.  Life 
of  Christ  necessary  to  its  history, 
59.  Its  religion  essentially  historic, 
127  note.  Elements  of  early  evan- 
gelic history  influencing  its  propa- 
gation and  maintenance,  132-185. 
Commencing  point  of  its   history, 

350.  Resurrection  of  Jesus  its  bM  sis, 

351.  Effect  of  its  introduction  upon 
all  the  arrangements  of  hmnan  so- 
ciety, 353,  354.  Primary  blessing 
too  often  lost  sight  of,  354  note. 
Descent  of  the  Holy  Ghost  and 
Gift  of  Tongues,  364.  Various  ex- 
planations of  the  miracle,  ibid,  notes. 
Scene  of  its  enactment,  3(55.  Classes 
from  whom  its  first  converts  were 
taken,  374.  Its  first  martyr,  and 
influence  of  his  martyrdom  on  its 
progress,  375-378.  —  See  Stephen. 
Expulsion  of  its  followers  from 
Jerusalem  and  good  seed  thereby 
sown,  378.  Sufferings  of  its  apos- 
tles under  Herod  Agrippa,  385-387. 
Its  progress  in  Juda?a  and  Syria: 
first  application  of  the  term  Chris- 
tians to  its  fi  llowers,  388.  Exclu- 
sive imtionsyet  entertained  by  them, 

388,  389.  Gradual  enlargement  of 
the  views  of  its  ap'  tstles ;  systems 
opposed  to  and  whicli  ultimately 
became  modified   exponents   of  it, 

389,  390.  Its  double  conflict  with 
external  Judaism,  and  with  the 
Judaism  of  its  own  church,  and 
dying  struggles  of  the  latter,  390, 
391.  New  phase  in  its  development 
indicated  by  the  accession  of  Paul 
and  Barnabas,  392,  426.  Its  first 
"  church,"  400.  Object  of  the  com- 
promise agreed  to  in  the  Council  of 
Jerusalem,  404,  405.  Tradition  of 
the  divine  warning  sent  t  >  its  fol- 
lowers before  the  siege  of  Jerusalem, 
421.  Probable  effect  on  it  of  the 
fall  of  Jerusalem,  421,  423.  Obsta- 
cles interposed  to  its  progress  by 
regard  for  the  Lmi^  and  efforts  of 
Paul  to  overcome  them,  425-430. 
Hostility  :ind  final  separation  be- 
tween it  and  Judaism,  431,  432. 
Distinguishing  features  of  its  con- 
flicts with  Judaism  and  with  Pa- 
ganism, 436,  437,  440.  Important 
element  of  their  own  iaith  rendering 
its  adoption  more  easy  to  the  Jews, 


438.  Character  of  its  first  collision 
with  Paganism,  442.  Favorable  ac- 
tion of  .hidsism  upon  its  progress, 
442,  443.  Scene  of  its  first  public 
cc>nflict  with  Paganism,  448.  Its 
reception  and  establishment  at  Cor- 
inth, 453,  454.  Persecution  and 
slaughter  of  its  followers  under 
Nero,  466-469.  Proofs  of  the  re- 
ality of  such  persecution,  47o  note. 
Occasion  of  the  Neronian  persecution, 
ii.  8.  Its  effect  on  the  progress  of 
Christianity,  9,  10.  Truth  illus- 
trated by  the  contemptuous  notice 
bestowed  on  Christianity  during  its 
first  centur}',  ii.  5,  6.  External  cir- 
cumstances calculated  to  advance 
its  growth,  7.  How  regarded  dur- 
ing its  first  period,  and  incentives 
to  popular  delight  in  the  sufferings 
of  its  followers,  t',  9.  Vespasian's 
probable  view  of  its  chances  of  en- 
during, 10.  Juxtaposition  of  the 
Christians  and  the  Jews  in  relation 
to  the  Koman  governors,  11-15. 
Charge  of  Atheism  Ijrought  against 
its  followers,  16,  14><,  183.  Influ- 
ence of  Orientalism  on  its  progress, 
34,  35,  36.  Form  in  which  asceti- 
cism became  grafted  on  it.  41. 
Conservative  influence  of  monasti- 
cism  upon  it,  48.  Its  contact  and 
conflicts  with  Simon  Magus  and 
the  Gnostics,  see  Gnosticism;  Si- 
ni'<n  Maans.  Its  position,  pros- 
pects, and  progress  under  Tra- 
jan, Hadrian,  and  the  Antonines, 
91-94,  112.  Element  in  its  system 
which  would  be  last  understood,  94. 
First  discovery  by  Polytheism  of 
its  aggressive  power,  95.  Value  of 
Trajan  and  Pliny's  correspondence 
as  a  record  of  its  early  history,  and 
facts  thereby  elicited,  95-98.  102, 
103.  Probable  cause  of  the  per- 
secution under  Trajan,  102-104. 
Occasion  of  the  cry  '"  The  Chris- 
tians to  the  lions,"  105,  110,  130. 
Its  advance  under  Antoninus  Pius, 
112-114.  Its  altered  position  un- 
der Marcus  Aurelius,  and  causefj 
thereof,  115-117,  131-133.  Tertul- 
lian's  plea  for  toleration,  118.  Ap- 
prehended connection  of  its  pro- 
gress with  the  fall  of  Rome,  and 
confirmatory  warrant  for  such  ap- 
prehension,'ll9,  120.  Christian  in- 
terpolations in  the  Sibylline  books, 
121,  123,  127, 128.  Martyrdom  and 
persecutions  under  Marcus  Aurc- 
Uus,  137-143, 147-151.— See  Aitalus; 


INDEX. 


447 


Blandina;  Justin;  Matyriis;  Pnhj- 
carp ;  Ponticus ;  Pvthinus ;  Sanctus. 
Insecurity  of  the  imperial  throne, 
and  vices  of  its  persecutors,  favor- 
able elements  in  the  progress  of 
Christianity,  153, 154, 156.  Its  con- 
dition under  Commodus,  157.  Its 
infant  pupil.  Caracalla,  158.  Loy- 
alty ot,  and  encouragement  aftbrded 
to,  its  followers  under  Severus,  159. 
Its  progress  and  martyrs  in  Africa, 
see  Africa.  Change  in  its  rela- 
tion to  society  under  Alexander 
Severus,  1S2.  Grant  of  land  for  its 
worship  by  him,  183.  Its  silent 
progress  and  modiiying  influences 
on  Heathenism,  184-186,  189,  214. 
Its  fortunes  under  the  Emperors 
Maximin  f.,  Gordian,  and   Philip, 

189,  190.  Martyrdoms  and  perse- 
cutions under  Decius  and  Valerian, 

190,  191, 194-201.  Miserable  deaths 
of  its  persecutors,  201,  202,  281.  Its 
last  collision  under  Aurelian,  208, 
206.  Its  condition  at  the  accession 
of  Diocletian,  207,  208.  Relaxing 
eflects  of  prosperity  upon  it,  2U8, 
209.  Improvement  in  its  prospects 
on  Diocletian's  neglect  of  Rome, 
211-213.  Ambiguous  position  of 
Christian  soldiers  in  the  Roman 
army,  217,  218.  Imperial  delibera- 
tions as  to  course  to  be  taken  with 
the  Christians,  and  issue  thereof, 
218-220.  Wholesale  persecutions 
inflicted  by  Diocletian  and  his 
co-ordinate  sovereigns,  220-228. 
Vitality  of  Christianity  under  the 
same,  229,  230  Its  triumph  over 
Galerius;  his  repentant  edict,  231. 
Evidences  of  the  extent  of  the  per- 
secution, 233.  Repressive  edicts  of, 
and  revival  of  persecution  by,  Maxi- 
min II.,  23-3-236.  Christian  requital 
of  I^agan  cruelties,  239.  Retracta- 
tion of  hostile  edicts,  and  retaliation 
on  Pagan  persecutors,  240-242.  Re- 
construction and  magnificence  of 
the  church  of  Tyre,  242,  243.  Con- 
version of  Constantine;  diversity  of 
motives  prompting  same,  250,  251. 
State  of  Christianit}-  at  the  time, 
251,  283.  Its  early  successes  in 
Parthia  and  Babylonia,  252,  253. 
Exterminating  processes  adopted 
against  it  in  Persia,  257.  Its  first 
kingdom  and  varying  results  of 
struggles  with  Paganism  there,  258, 
259,  261-263.  Scheme  of  Mani  for 
blending  it  with  the  Oriental  sys- 
tems, 26"3-278.  —  See  Mani.    Its  tri- 


umphs in  the  East;  complaints  as 
to  the  numbers  professing  it,  279, 
280.  Considerations  on  this  latter 
point,  280  note.  Difierent  circum- 
stances affecting  its  propagation  in 
the  East  and  West,  281-283.  Its 
state  under  Maxentius,  285,  286. 
Character  given  to  it  in  connection 
with  Constantine's  vision,  2u0-29o. 
Great  charter  of  its  liberties,  294, 
295.  Tenor  and  spirit  of  Constan- 
tine's earlier  laws  in  its  favor,  295- 
297,  316.  Proofs  of  the  position 
accorded  to  it,  299.  Popular  pas- 
sions called  into  action  by  questions 
concerning  it,  and  first  civil  wars 
arising  thereout.  300,  301.  Growth 
of  the  sacerdotal  power  a>necessary 
consequence  of  its  development, 
302.  Donatists  and  traditors;  rival 
bishops;  result  of  appeals  to  the 
civil  power,  304-306.  Action  of  the 
council  thereon,  and  persecution  of 
the  Donatists,  306-310.  The  Cir- 
cumcellions,  their  ravages  and  sub- 
jugation, 310-314.  Licinius's  active 
enmity  toward  Christianity  and  its 
worshippers,  and  repeal  of  his  edicts 
by  Constantine,  320-323.  Effect 
of  the  foundation  of  Constantinople 
upon  its  progress,  335-342.  Pagan 
temples,  why  unsuitable  for  its  wor- 
ship, 344.  Adaptability  of  the  ba- 
silica thereto,  340-348.  Reinstated 
in  the  place  of  its  birth,  and  erection 
of  memorial  churches  on  the  holy 
sites  there,  350-353.  The  Trinita"- 
rian  controverisy,  354-387.  —  See 
Athanasius ;  Arias ;  Niccea ;  Nicene 
Creed ;  Sabellianism ;  Trinitarian- 
ism.  Its  legal  establishment  and 
effects  thereof  on  itself,  on  the  civil 
power,  and  on  society,  393-395. 
Its  humanizing  influence  upon  leg- 
islation, 397-400.  Its  success  in 
^Ethiopia  and  Iberia,  400-408.  Its 
position  and  dissensions  under  the 
sons  of  Constantine,  409,  410.  The 
moral  revolution  worked  by  it  less 
rapid  than  the  theological,  411-413. 
The  Athanasian  controversy  and 
its  offshoots,  415-452.  Character 
of  the  Christian  demonology,  457. 
Its  internal  animosities  and  their 
consequences,  458. 
Conduct  of  the  Emperor  Julian  to- 
wards its  worshippers,  iii.  8,  9, 
10-13.  Cruelties. perpetrated  upon 
them,  15.  Character  of  Julian's 
writings  against,  and  conflicts  with 
it,  28,  29,  32,  33.     Its  position  under 


448 


INDEX. 


Valentinian  and  Valens,  and  theo- 
logical disputes  under  the  latter,  36, 
39,  40,  42,  48.  Valens  and  Basil, 
49-51.  Its  effects  in  mitigating 
the  evils  of  barbaric  invasion,  and 
blending  rival  races,  51-53.  Its 
influence  At  distinct  periods  on  lite- 
rature, language,  municipal  insti- 
tutions, and  general  habits,  55-59, 
245-247,  250,  252,  253,  354.  Its  re- 
ception and  influence  among  the 
Goths,  59-62.  Its  advance  under 
Theodosius,  63-65.  Belief  of  Chris- 
tians in  the  existence  of  the  heathen 
deities,  66,  67.  Effect  upon  its 
peasant  converts  of  their  Pagan  re- 
membrances, 68,  69.  Its  war  against 
the  Pagan  temples,  70-76,  78-82. 
Rescripts  and  edicts  of  Theodosius 
in  its  favor,  77,  94,  95,  104.  A  crisis 
testing  its  power,  129.  Lf.bor  of 
Chrysostom  in  its  cause,  see  Chry- 
sostom.  Its  position  at  tlie  period 
of  his  fall,  153.  Tone  assumed  by 
it  under  Ambro.>e"s  teacliings,  158. 
How  championed  by  him,  168-172. 
Point  in  which  its  divine  mission 
was  accomplished,  176.  Nattire  of 
Jerome's  influence  over  it,  195. 
Effect  of  Monachism  upon  it  and 
upon  its  preachers,  219,  223-225, 
226-229.  Dominance  obtained  by 
it  in  the  Eoman  world,  243. 
Growth  of  its  hierarchy  and  priest- 
hood, and  arrangements  of  its 
church,  see  Baptism  ;  Bishops ; 
Church;  Clergy;  Councik;  Deacons; 
Festivals;  Hierarchy;  Sacraments. 
Its  uses  of  wealth;  a  triumphant 
question,  276,  277.  Its  influence 
upon  marriage,  295,  296.  Its  peni- 
tential discipline,  297.  Public  spec- 
tacles cut  off  by  it,  311.  Seclusion 
and  obscurity  of  its  early  worship- 
ping places,  ibid.  Public  amuse- 
ments condemned  by  it,  345.  Its 
way  of  dealing  with  actors  and  ac- 
tresses, and  with  the  drama,  345, 
346.  Sanguinary  exhibitions  sup- 
pressed by  its  influence:  its  mar- 
tyr in  the  good  work,  347-351. 
Character  of  its  literature,  sacred 
and  secidar,  354,  370.  —  See  Litera- 
ture. Its  orator}',  370-375.  Its 
cotniection  with  and  influence  on 
the  fine  arts,  376-410.  —  See  Archi- 
tecture; Music;  Paintings;  Sculp- 
ture ;  Symbolism.  Form  assumed 
by  it  as  tlie  religion  of  the 
Roman  world,  411-412.  Its  faith 
and  morals  never  thoroughly  sepa- 


rated, 413,  414.  Its  military  phase, 
415.  Its  mystic  age,  faith,  religious 
impressions,  417-421.  Its  effect  on 
natural  philosophy,  422,  423.  Its 
polytheistic  forms :  worship  of  saints, 
ajigels,  and  the  virgin,  424-432. 

Christmas  carols,  early  traditions 
surviving  in,  i.  136  note. 

CmasTODOKUS  on  the  statues  in 
Zeuxippus's  gjonnasium,  ii.  340 
note. 

CiiKiSTOS,  confusion  of  Chrostos  vrith, 
i.  407  note.  In  the  Gnostic  systems, 
ii.  61,  65,  75. 

Chkysanthius  the  sophist,  recom- 
nu^nded  to  Juhan  as  a  teacher, 
ii  461,  462,  Doubtful  honor  de- 
clined by  him,  iii.  7. 

Chrysostom,  Dio.  —  See  Dio  Chi-y- 
sostoni. 

Chrysostom,  St.,  act  of  Constantius 
approved  by,  ii.  404.  Sarcasms  of 
Juhan  confirmed  by  him,  iii.  16. 
Character  and  influence  of  his  writ- 
ings and  preachings,  100,  122,  128, 
127,  356,  370  note.  Meaning  of  bis 
name,  123.  His  parentage,  train- 
ing, and  adoption  of  a  religious  life, 
il/id.  His  mother's  appeal  to  his 
affection.  124.  His  pious  fraud  on 
his  friend,  and  monastic  career,  125. 
His  notion  of  the  sacerdotal  charac- 
ter, 126,  142.  His  description  of  the 
agonies  of  an  Antiochiaii  persecu- 
tion, and  consolatory  ministrations 
to  the  sufferers,  129-131.  Made 
Bishop  of  Constantinople,  133.  His 
asceticism   in   his   episcopate,  134, 

135.  His  political  difficulties,  135, 

136.  Succors  and  pleads  for  Eutro- 
pius,  138-140.  "Weak  points  in  his 
character;  governed  by  his  deacon, 
140.  Occasion  of  clerical  hostilities 
against  him.  141,  142.  His  con- 
demnations by  councils.  143-145, 
149.  Causes  of  Empress  Eudoxia's 
enmities  towards  him,  145,  148, 
Catastrophes  following  each  of  his 
banishments,  146,  150,  Infelicities 
of  his  exile,  and  harshnesses  has- 
tening his  death,  150-152.  After- 
worship  paid  to  his  remains,  152. 
Causes  and  object  of  the  persecu- 
tions inflicted  on  him,  152.  An  ob- 
stinate enemy  of  his,  253.  His  view 
of  the  conduct  of  a  prelate,  275. 
His  profession  of  faith,  321  note. 
On  the  presence  and  participation 
of  women  in  public  spectacles,  339, 
343  note,  345  note.  Character  of 
his  epistles,  370  note.    His  eulogium 


INDEX. 


449 


on  the  sancity  of  the  Cross,  386. 
On  the  Savioui-'s  personal  appear- 
ance, 392.  His  band  of  choristers, 
409.  —  See  ii.  189  note ;  iii.  17  note, 
19  note,  108,  247  note,  248  note,  251, 
269  note,  280  note,  287,  316,  320  note, 
331,  342,  372  note,  400. 

Church,  first  Christian,  i.  402 ;  ii.  61. 
Period  of  the  formation  of  churches, 
ii.  19.  Origin  of  orders  in  it, 
19.  How  originally  formed,  21. 
Difierence  between  it  and  the  syna- 
gogue, 22,  23.  Model  whereon 
formed,  23,  24.  Its  centre,  24.  Its 
elders,  bishops,  and  other  ofiicers, 
2C-33.  Founder  of  churches  in 
Eome,  298.  Churches  in  Constan- 
tinople, 337  note,  395.  Adaptation 
of  basilicte,  346-348,  370  note. 
Memorial  churches  in  Palestine, 
352,  353.  Relations  of  Church  arid 
State,  375;  iii.  2S9-292.  Effect  of 
its  power  to  receive  bequests,  ii. 
319;  iii.  278,  279.  Pemiitted  to  ac- 
cept gifts  of  land,  ii.  323.  Church 
unity,  iii.  272.  Application  of  its 
wealth,  28u.  Its  cognizance  of 
raan-iages  and  wills,  295,  296.  Its 
alliance  with  the  civil  power  for 
punishing  heretics,  303,  304.  Ar- 
rangements for  separation  of  its 
various  orders  of  worshippers,  314- 
317;  and  for  administration  of 
its  sacraments,  318-322.  Peculiari- 
ties of  its  architecture,  377-382. 
Music  in  its  services,  406-410. — 
See  BajMism ;  Bishops;  Clergy ;  Fes- 
tivals. 

Church  disputes.  —  See  Arius ;  Atlia- 
nasius ;  JJonaiists  ;  Trinitarian  Con- 
troversy. 

Church  of  England,  an  abandoned 
article  of  the,  i.  So  note. 

Chuza,  Herod's  steward.  —  See  Jo- 
anna. 

CiAMPiNi  on  church  architecture,  iii. 
379  note.  On  ancient  church  art, 
401. 

CiBAL^,  battle  of,  ii.  319. 

CiBORiUM,  the,  or  altar  canopy,  iii. 
317. 

Cicero  on  the  religious  policy  of  the 
Romans,  i.  14.  His  theoiy  of  the 
religion  of  Egypt,  24  note.  On  hu- 
man sacrifices,  35  note.  Why  he 
took  refuge  in  philosophy,  38  note. 
On  the  hypocrisy  of  the  soothsay- 
ers, 44.  A  question  propounded  bv 
him,  46,  47.  —  See  44  note,  439. 

CicoGNARA,  Count,  on  clerical  dress, 
iii.  276  note. 


CiLiciA,  visited  by  Paul  and  Silae, 
i.  406. 

CiRCUMCELLioNS,  cousequences  of 
the  barbarous  fanaticism  of  the, 
ii.  310.  Tlieir  insurrection  and 
defeat  of  the  imperial  troops, 
312.  Their  equality  priiclamations, 
atrocities,  and  passion  for  mar- 
tyrdom, 312,  313.  Their  defeat, 
314. 

Circumcision  performed  on  Jesns,  i. 
112.  Difiiculties  of  Jewish  Chris- 
tians with  regard  to  its  abandon- 
ment, 3J3,  394,  403,  438.  Induce- 
ments to  kings  for  submitting  to  it, 
403  note. 

Circus  and  chariot  races,  ii.  398. 
Massacres  and  party  disputes,  iii. 
170,  171,  352. 

City  of  God,  —  De  Civitate  Dei. — 
See  Av.gustine. 

Civilization  under  the  Romans,  i. 
10.  Its  effects  on  the  old  religions, 
33;  ii.  282. 

Claitdian,  Latin  poetry  revived  by, 
iii.  64.  His  satire  on  Eutropius,  iii. 
13^,  250  iwte.  His  style,  356.  Re- 
markable char.icteristic  of  his  poe- 
try, 360  note.  —  See  340  note,  341, 
341  note  2,  345  note,  351  note  1. 

Claudius,  satire  aimed  by  Seneca  at, 
i.  37  note.  Astrologers  banished  by 
him,  51.  Alleged  cause  of  his  ex- 
pulsion of  the  Jews  from  Rome,  407. 
Christian  progress  during  his  reign, 
42b.  Kelaxation  of  his  edict,  462. 
Severe  alike  to  Christian  and  Jew, 
ii.  8. 

Clearciius  befi'iends  Maximus,  iii. 
47. 

Clement  of  Alexandria,  allusion  to 
the  XaiKOi  by,  ii.  30  note.  Asserts 
St.  Paul  to  have  been  married,  41 
note.  His  condemnation  of  celiba- 
cy, 42  7iote.  On  the  community  of 
women  in  the  Carpocratian  system, 
84  note.  His  denunciation  of  luxu- 
ries, 212  note.  Passage  interpolated 
in  his  epistle,  iii.  263  note.  Further 
on  the  marriage  of  the  apostles,  281. 
Passage  thereon  verbatim,  281  note 
4.  Progressive  nature  of  his  works, 
323.  On  the  wife's  signet-ring,  387. 
On  Christ's  personal  appearance, 
391.  —  See  ii.  128,  448  note;  iii.  73. 
202,  246,  247,  339,  notes. 

Clement  of  Rome,  i.  484. 

Clement,  St.,  question  as  to  authen- 
ticity of  the  works  of,  ii.  49  note. 

Clementina,  the,  nature  of  the  wri- 
tings so  called,  iii.  365 


VOL.    III. 


29 


450 


INDEX. 


Cleophas  and  Mary,  parents  of 
James,  one  of  the  apostles,  i.  222. 

Clekgy,  first  aristocratic,  tlien  des- 
potic, i.  55.  Their  order  legally 
recognized,  ii.  317.  Exemptions 
granted  to  them,  317,  318.  Prohi- 
bition of  their  synods  by  Licinius, 
ii,  320.  Influence  acquired  and  au- 
thority claimed  and  exercised  by 
them,  iii.  53,  54,  308.  Their  inter- 
ference in  secular  affairs,  135-138. 
Basis  of  their  claim  to  supernatural 
power,  165.  Their  vices  painted  by 
Jerome,  233.  Their  relation  to  and 
influence  over  females,  234.  \\  iden- 
ing  of  the  separation  between  them 
and  the  laitv,  and  consequences 
thereof,  262,  263.  One  of  their  last 
triumphs,  265.  Consequences  of 
the  increase  of  their  power,  273,  274 ; 
and  contrast  of  same  with  apostolic 
periods,  273-275.  Their  dress,  276 
note.  Their  acquisition  and  uses  of 
wealth,  276, 277.  How  maintained, 
277,  278.  Become  a  separate  com- 
munity, 281.  Their  liability  to 
flagellation  and  other  penalties, 
281.  Institution  of  celibacy ;  eftect 
of  their  debarment  trom  conjugal 
rights,  281-286.  Their  viulieres  sub- 
introducicB,  287,  288,  and  notes.  Ad- 
vantages of  their  station,  307.  Their 
dread  of  the  charge  of  irreligion, 
420.  —  See  Bishops ;  Church;  jLjjIs- 
copacy. 

Clinton's  Fasti,  ii.  95  note,  105  note. 

Codex  Argenteus,  contents  and  mag- 
nificence of  the,  iii.  60  note. 

CcENOBiTisM,  effects  on  the  establish- 
ment of  Christianity  of,  iii.  lyt^,  200. 
Asceticism,'  practices,  and  numbers 
of  its  votaries,  213-215.  Its  dan- 
gers, 215.  —  See  Monachism. 

Coins  of  Rome,  Christian  symbols  on, 
ii.  316. 

CoLLYKiDiANS  rejected  as  heretics,  iii. 
430  note. 

CoLoss.E  visited  by  Paul,  i.  472. 

Columbus,  clerical  opposition  to  the 
theory  of,  iii.  422. 

CoMANA,  Chrysostom's  death-place, 
iii   152. 

Comedy.  —  See  Drama. 

Comets,  Roman  auguries  from,  i.  12 
note. 

CofiiMANDMENTS  uttered  by  Christ, 
eftect  of  the,  i.  190. 

CoMMoDUS,  human  sacrifices  oflfered 
by,  i.  34  note.  His  brutal  character 
and  gladiatorial  feats,  ii.  155,  156. 
Usurps  the  attributes  of  Hercules, 


156,  ibid.  note.  His  attitude  towards 
Christianity,  157.  —  See  ii.  152. 

Community  of  goods  not  an  apostolic 
institution,  i.  308,  Mosheim's  argu- 
ment, ibid  note. 

CojiBiuNiTY  of  women  among  the 
Carpocratians,  ii.  84  note. 

Confession,  Tertullian  on,  iii.  298. 

CoKSTANs,  successor  to  Constantine, 
ii.  312,  314.  Adheres  to  the  cause 
of  Athanasius,  417,  418.  His  law 
against  Pagan  sacrifices,  389. 
Council  proposed  by  him,  421.  His 
murder  avenged,  424,  425.  —  See  ii. 
420,  427;  iii.  14. 

Constant's  work,  "  Sur  la  Religion," 
its  character,  i.  18  note.  Value  of 
his  "  Polytheisme  Komain,"  27  note. 
His  view  of  human  sacrifices  under 
the  Romans,  34  note.  ( )n  the  causes 
of  indecent  rites,  79,  note  2. 

Constantia's  dying  plea  for  Arius, 
ii.  376. 

Constantine  the  Great;  his  conver- 
sion a  politic  act,  ii.  153  Motives 
for  same,  250,  283.  His  charge 
against  Diocletian,  216  note-  Effect 
of  his  schemes  on  Maxentius.  228. 
Hopes  of  the  Christians  regarding 
him,  228.  His  dexterous  escape 
from  Galerius,  228,  285.  His  re- 
monstrances against  Maximin's 
cruelties,  236.  Result  of  his  vic- 
tory- over  Maxentius,  241.  Epoch 
marked  by  his  reign,  245.  The 
man  for  the  epoch,  247.  Conse- 
quence of  his  dissolution  of  the 
praitorian  bands,  248.  Begins  hos- 
tilities against  Maxentius,  'lib,  287. 
Oscillating  between  two  religions; 
his  famous  Vision  and  its  results, 
288-291.  Question  of  its  nature 
and  reality,  290,  291,  notes.  292. 
His  life  a  Christian  Cyropa'dia,  290 
note.  His  religious  views  as  inter- 
preted by  his  conduct  aiter  his  con- 
quest of  Maxentius,  293,  294,  325. 
Importance  to  Christianity  of  his 
Milan  edict,  294,  295,  316.  Recog- 
nizes the  sabbath;  Pagan  rites  sup- 
pressed by  him,  296, 2y7  Christian 
churches  founded,  and  synods  as- 
sembled by  him  in  Rome,  2l<8.  299, 
317.  His  "conduct  with  regard  to 
controversial  questions  refeiTed  to 
him,  306,  306  note,  307,  308,  310,  314, 
354,  366,  367.  His  vieAV  of  the  po- 
sition of  the  priesthood,  318.  His 
war  with  and  victory  over  Licinius, 
319-323.  His  conduct  to  his  ene- 
mies on  the  field  and  afterwards, 


INDEX. 


451 


323,  324,  325.  Occasion  of  his  put- 
ting to  death  his  son,  nephew,  and 
wife,  326-328.  Pagan  account  of 
the  transaction,  329,  330.  His  sub- 
sequent remorse,  331,  332.  His 
resolution  to  remove  the  seat  of  em- 
pire; etfect  of  same,  333-335,  374, 
375.  Ruhng  pri'iciple  observed, 
and  course  taken  by  him  in  build- 
ing and  adorning  Constantinople, 
336-340 ;  iii.  384.  —  See  Constantino- 
ple. His  edict  relative  to  gladia- 
torial shows,  ii.  343  note.  Destroys 
a  temple  of  Aphrodite,  349.  His 
sanctified  bit  for  his  war-horse,  352. 
His  re-edification  of  holy  places  in 
Palestine,  350-353.  His  presidency 
of  the  Council  of  Nicaea,  and  ban- 
quet to  the  bishops,  370-372.  His 
disposal  of  the  libels  of  the  bishops 
against  each  other,  371  note.  In- 
centive to  his  recall  of  Arius,  376. 
Ascendency  of  Eusebius  of  Nicome- 
dia  over  him,  377.  His  decrees  op- 
posed, and  himself  confronted,  by 
Athanasius,  380,  383.  Occasion  of 
his  condemnation  of  Sopater,  384, 
385.  His  banishment  and  death- 
bed recall  of  Athanasius,  385,  386, 
387.  His  probable  motives  for  de- 
ferring his  baptism,  387,  388;  iii. 
320  note.  Extent  of  his  eftbrts  to- 
wards the  establishment  of  Chris- 
tianity and  suppression  of  Paganism, 
ii.  389-393,  395.  His  laws  for  the 
protection  of  children  and  women, 
and  with  re;:ard  to  single  and  child- 
less persons,  397-401,  403.  Conduct 
of  Pagans  and  Christians  at  his 
burial,  404.  His  law  regarding 
public  festivals,  iii.  336.  His  exhi- 
bition of  captives  at  Treves,  349.  — 
See  ii.  6,  152,213,  223,244,258,279, 
303,  336,  848,  351 ;  iii  9,  69,  294,  305. 
Constantinople,  veneration  of  the 
Labarum  at,  ii.  291.  Epoch  marked 
by  its  foundation,  and  influence 
thereof  on  Christianity,  334,  335. 
Scheme  contemplated  in  building 
and  ornameiting  it,  336,  337.  Cer-  i 
emonials  of  its  foundation  and  I 
dedication,  336,  340.  Its  Christian  i 
churches,  337  note,  348;  iii.  147.  I 
Principles  emblemed  in  the  foun- 
der's statue,  ii.  341  Christian  and 
Pagan  aspects  of  the  new  city,  342-  , 
344.  Sources  of  its  corn  supplies, 
384.  Sanguinary'  tumults  on  ac-  ' 
count  of  church  disputes,  418,  419; 
iii.  149.  Attachment  of  its  inhabit- 
ants to  Christianity,  iii.  15,  16,  57. 


Dommance  of  Arianism,  118.  Vis- 
ited by  an  earthquake,  146.  Burn- 
ing of  St.  Sophia's  Church,  150. 
Enthusiasm  and  party  disputes  kin- 
dled by  its  chariot  races,  352.  —  See 
ii.  379,  383;  iii.  69,  106,  119,  383. 
Its  bishops,  see  Alexander,  Bishop 
of  Constantinoj)le ;  Chrysostom ;  Eu- 
doxus  ;  Gregory  of  Nazianzuni ; 
Hosius;  Jfjxiiii'us  the  Cynic;  Nec- 
tarius. 

CoNsTANTius  C.esar's  humane  con- 
duct towards  the  Christians,  ii.  224, 
228.     His  peaceful  end,  283. 

CoNSTANTius,  SOU  of  Coustantine,  a 
supporter  of  Arianism,  ii.  S/D.  First 
prohibitor  of  sacrifices,  391  note. 
Honor  rendered  by  him  to  his  fa- 
ther's remains.  404.  Not  free  from 
the  stain  of  fratricide,  409.  His 
reconciliation  with  and  subsequent 
hostilities  against  Athanasius,  416, 

423,  427,  428j  429,  431.  His  con- 
duct on  hearing  of  the  murder  of 
Hermogenes,  419.  Abandons  and 
again  espouses  the  cause  of  the 
Arians,  424,  425,  426,  429,  446. 
Avenges  the  murder  of  Constans, 

424,  425.  Effect  upon  him  of 
Bishop  Yalens's  prophec}'-,  425. 
His  claim  to  direct  inspiration,  and 
squabbles  with  the  Council  of  Mi- 
lan, 429,  430.  Rejection  of  his  pro- 
posals by  the  women  of  Rome, 
431,  447.  Ferocious  conduct  of  his 
troops,  and  Arian  adherents  in  Al- 
exandria, 432-435.  Character  of 
invectives  launched  against  him, 
437-440.  His  reception  of  the  depu- 
ties from  the  disputing  sects,  449, 
450.  Consequences  of  his  attempt 
to  the  dominance  of  Arianism,  452. 
Shape  taken  by  his  jealousy  of 
Julian,  460,  463-466.  Julian's 
charge  against  him,  463.  Charac- 
ter of  his  personal  religion,  464. 
Contingency  prevented  by  his 
death,  467.  His  removal  of  the 
statue  of  Victory,  iii.  87.  Some  of 
his  laws:  as  to  bishops,  289  note; 
for  protecting  women,  293,  294;  as 
to  the  praetors,  337  note  ;  relative  to 
soldier-gladiators,  349.  —  See  iii.  6, 
14,  20,  34. 

CoNSUBSTANTiALis^r,  or  doctrine  of 
the  Homoousion.  —  See  Honioousios. 

Conybeake's  "Bampton  Lectures," 
ii.  212  note. 

Coos  visited  by  Paul,  i.  463.' 

CopoNius,  defilement  of  the  temples 
during  the  administration  of.  i.  177. 


452 


INDEX. 


Corinth,  cause  of  the  settlement  of 
the  Jews  at,  i.  407.  Colony  estab- 
lished by  Julius  Ctesar,  407,  453, 
notes.  Disputes  between  Christians 
and  Jews,  and  result  thereof,  408, 
455,  456.  Settlement  of  the  Chris- 
tians, 428,  428  note,  445.  The  Ven- 
ice of  the  Old  World,  453.  Descrip- 
tion of  one  of  its  fairs,  454  note. 
Nero's  anticipated  visit,  473.  St. 
Paul's  residence  in  and  connection 
with  it,  428,  462,  463,  472,  474;  ii. 
25  note.  State  of  its  church,  29, 
30,  ibid.  note. 
Cornelius,  supernatural  manifesta- 
tion at  the  conversion  of,  i.  393. 
Class  represented  by  him,  and  dis- 
cussion raised  on  the  question,  ibid. 
and  note.  Period  of  his  conversion, 
394.  Its  effect  on  the  extension  of 
Christianity,  396.  Views  probably 
held  by  him  before  his  conversion, 
442. 
Cornelius,  Bishop  of  Rome,  on  the 
ministerial  establishment  of  Rome, 
ii.  213  note.  Cvprian's  epistle  to 
him,  iii.  263,  264,  264  note.  On- 
slaught in  which  he  perished,  333 
note. 
Corporal  punishment.  —  See  Punish- 
ment. 
CosMAS  Indicopleustes,  ii.  404  iwte. 
His  work  a  curious  example  of  an- 
cient physical  science,  iii.  422  note. 
Cosmos,  or  seed  of  the  universe,  ii.  69 

note. 
CoTELERius,  information  on  clerical 
marriages  collected  by,  iii.  281,  282 
note.  —  See  ii.  29  note ;  iii.  329  note. 
Councils  and  synods  of  the  Church 
incompetent  to  the  reconciliation  of 
religious  differences,  ii.  309.    Refer- 
ences to  some  of  their  deliberations 
and   ordinances,   ii.   448,   449;    iii. 
271-273,  282,  289,  290,  332.     The 
earliest  synod,  iii.  268. 
Councils  : 

Alexandria,  ii.  416. 
Ancyra,  iii.  272,  282,  notes. 
Antioch,  ii.  416 ;  iii.  272  note. 
Aries,  ii.  308,  427;  iii.  272  note, 

285. 

Carthage,  ii.  193,  197,  305,  313 

note;    iii.  276,   280,   281,  283, 

notes,  285,  288  note,  315  m)te, 

332,  836,  372  note. 

Chalcedon,  iii.  105,  266  note,  269. 

Constantinople,  ii.  451;  iii.  121, 

273  note. 
Elvira.  —  See  IlViberis,  below. 
Gangra,  iii.  284,  284  note. 


Councils: 

llliberis,  or  Elvira,  iii.  82,  256, 

258,  272,  283,  287,  293,  notes, 
383. 
Jerusalem,  i.  403. 
Laodicea,  iii.  266,  272,  nxites. 
Milan,  ii.  421,  423,  427,  428 ;  iii. 

273  note, 
Neo-Caisarea,  iii.  284  note. 
Nica?a,  ii.  324,  331,  368-374,  37S; 

iii.  282,  288  note,  422  note. 
Oak  at  Chalcedon,  iii.  143. 
CEcumenic,  iii.  272-273  note. 
Orleans,  iii.  332. 
Philippopolis,  ii.  422. 
Quinisextau,  iii.  403  note. 
Rimini,  ii.  437,  449 ;  iii.  273  note. 
Rome,  ii.  306,  421;  iii.  272  note. 
Sardica,  ii   421 ;  iii.  273  note. 
Seleucia,  ii.  437,  449,  450. 
Sirmiuni  Svnod,  ii.  449. 
Toledo,  iii."'285,  286,  302  note. 
Tyre,  ii.  417;  iii.  273  note. 
Crassus,  a  dupe  to  the  Chaldeans, 
i.    50.      Construction   put    by  the 
Jews  upon  his  death,   169.  —  See 
ii.  455. 
CRE.A.TION,  Chinese  dogma  of  the,  i. 

79  note. 
Creator.  —  See  Deity ;  God. 
Creeds,  necessity  for'and  philosophy 
of,  ii.  413,  444.     The  Nicene  creed, 
ii.  271,  449.     The  Apostolic  creed, 
iii.  leo. 
Crescens  the  cynic,  Justin's  death 
attributed  to  the  jealousy  of,  ii.  137. 
Ci;ete,  establishment  of  Christianity 

in,  i.  471,  472;  ii.  19. 
Creuzer's    "  Syrabolik,"   value    of 
De  Guigniaut's  rendering  of,  i.  18 
note. 
Crimes  against  humanity,  Constan- 

tine's  laws  relative  to,  ii.  397-403. 
Crishna,  Christ-like  parallel  in  the 

traditions  of,  i.  103  note. 
Crispus,  ruler  of  the  synagogue,  con 

version  of,  i.  408. 
Crispus,  son  of  Constantine,  Chris- 
tian tutor  of,  ii.  319,  326,  398.  Na- 
val victory  achieved  by  him,  323, 
326.  Put  to  death  by  his  father, 
3i7.  Crime  charged  upon  him, 
328.  Memorial  of  his  father's  re- 
morse, ibid.  Presumed  instigator 
and  object  of  his  murder,  328. 
Cross,  treatment  of  suflerers  on  the, 
i.  343.  Represented  on  the  walls  of 
the  Temple  of  Serapis,  iii.  79  note. 
Long  the  sole  symbol  of  Christian- 
ity, 385.  Gradual  change  in  art- 
represeutations  of  it,  403,  404. 


INDEX. 


458 


Cross  of  Christ,  Constantine's  vision 
of  the,  ii.  291.  Alleged  use  of  its 
nails,  341,  352.  Imperial  suppliants 
at  its  foot,  393.  Legend  of  its  dis- 
covery and  effect  thereof  on  Chris- 
tian worship,  351,  352.  General 
acceptation  of  the  legend,  iii.  386. 

Ckucifix,  late  adoption  of  as  a  Chris- 
tian symbol,  iii.  4U3.  Munter's  opin- 
ion, ibid.  note. 

Ckucifixion  of  Jesus,  thoughts  on 
the,  i.  342-345.  —  See  Jesus. 

Ctesiphon,  ii.  253. 

Cucusus,  Chrysostom's  place  of  ex- 
ile, iii.  151. 

CuMANUS,  tumults  and  massacre 
during  the  prefecture  of,  i.  395. 
413. 

CuKETON,  Dr.,  SjTiac  Epistles  pub- 
lished by,  ii.  105 ;  iii.  2(j2  note. 

Cuspius  Fadus,  no  friend  to  the  San- 
hedrin,  i.  395. 

Cyaxares  I.  identified  with  Gush- 
tasp,  i.  73  note. 

Cybele,  confusion  of  Christian  wor- 
ship with  the  worship  of,  ii.  86  note, 
299.  Her  priests,  165.  Mutilation 
and  re-erection  of  her  statue  by 
Constantine,  339.  Julian's  asser- 
tion, 474  note.  — See  ii.  188,  219; 
iii.  97. 

CYmc,  position  assumed  in  Greece 
by  the,  ii.  42.  —  See  Crescens ;  Dio- 
genes. 

Cyprian,  Bishop  of  Carthage,  Monta- 
nist  leanings  of,  ii.  164.  On  the 
rebaptism  of  heretics,  193  note.  His 
story  of  a  precociously  orthodox  in- 
fant, 194  note.  His  motive  for  ac- 
cepting his  bishopric,  19G.  His  high 
notions  of  episcopal  authority,  ibid. 
302 ;  iii.  262  note,  263.  Pagan  ani- 
mosity towards  him,  ii.  lt»7,  200. 
Heroism  of  himself  and  Christian 
associates  during  a  plague,  199. 
His  exile,  return,  trial,  and  mailyr- 
dom,  199-201.  Dogma  repudiated 
by  him,  446.  Value  of  his  letters, 
iii.  370  note. 

Cyprus,  possessions  of  Barnabas  in, 
i.  384.  Conversions  and  Christian 
communities  there,  3K8,  899,  400, 
406,  430.  Massacre  of  its  inhabit- 
ants under  Hadrian,  i.  399  note;  ii. 
72.  Keception  of  Paul  and  Barna- 
bas there,  i.  400.  Insurrection  un- 
der Trajan,  ii.  102.  Its  bishop,  see 
jEjnphamus. 

Cyrexe,  Jews  of,  i.  865.  Insun-ec- 
tion  in,  ii.  102. 

Ctrenius,   Governor  of  Syria,   and 


the  census  of  Palestine  at  Christ's 
birth,  chronological  diffijulties  con- 
nected with,  i.  108  7iote.  Solution 
suggested  by  Zimipt,  109  note. 

Cyril  of  Alexandria  and  his  books 
against  Julian,  iii.  29,  3G8.  On  the 
Saviour's  personal  appearance,  393. 
His  words  verbatim,  ibid.  note. 

Cyril  of  Jerusalem,  iii.  319,  321, 
7iotes. 

CYROP.EDIA  of  Xenophon,  i.  57.  A 
Christian  one,  ii.  290  note. 


D. 


Demonology  and  diabolical  posses- 
sion, belief  of  the  Jews  in,  i.  76,  93, 
Relief  of  possessed  ones  by  Jesus, 
218,  228,  232,  245.  Nature  of  the 
possession,  228  note.  Pagan  and 
Christian  demonology,  ii.  457.  A 
part  of  the  Christian  creed,  iii.  208. 

Demons  of  the  Eastern  and  Pagan 
systems,  i.  78,  229  note;  ii.  214,  273, 
340.  The  Agatho-demon,  ii.  85, 
ibid.  note.  —  See  Demiurge. 

D'Agincourt  on  Roman  games,  iii. 
352  note.  On  paintings  in  cata- 
combs, 402  note. 

Damaris  converted  by  St.  Paul,  i. 
452,  453. 

Damascus,  object  and  divine  frus- 
tration of  Saul's  mission  to,  i.  380, 
381.  Seized  by  Aretas,  383.  Per- 
secution of  women  there,  ii.  284. 
Its  temple  consecrated  to  Christian 
worship,  iii.  71. 

Damasus,  Bishop  and  Pontiff  of 
Rome,  suppoi'ts  the  protest  of  the 
Christians  against  idolatrj',  iii.  87. 
Takes  Jerome  into  his  confidence, 
233.  Scene  on  his  contest  for  the 
Roman  bishopric,  266,  279.  —  See 
iii.   104. 

Daniel,  Messianic  belief  grounded 
on  the  prophecy  of,  i.  63  note,  288. 
Probable  intercourse  between  him 
and  Zoroaster,  72,  73.  Representa- 
tion of  Michael  in  his  vision,  77. 

Dante's  reference  to  Trajan's  re- 
demption fi'om  purgatorv,  ii.  106, 
107.     His  "Hell,"  269  note. 

Daphne  of  Antioch,  grove  and  vo- 
luptuous rites  of,  i.  405  note.  Occa- 
sion of  Christian  devotions  on  its 
site,  ii.  192 ;  iii.  19.  Same  deserted, 
iii.  18.  —  See  iii.  15  note,  16.. 

Dara,  persecution  by  the  Christiana 
at,  ii.  262 

Darius,  ii.  253. 


454 


INDEX. 


Darkness,  the  realm  of,  in  Mani's 
system,  ii.  269  note.  Offerings  to 
the  powers  of,  392.  —  See  Daniurge. 

Darwin's  theory  of  development, 
i.  17  note. 

David,  prophecy  of  a  Messiah  from 
the  line  of,  i.  63  note,  65,  84,  106, 
159  note,  284,  303.  Social  state  of 
his  descendants  at  Christ's  birth, 
99.  Domitian's  order  for  their  dis- 
covery, ibid,  note;  ii.  14.  His  posi- 
tion in  Marcion's  Gospel,  ii.  82. 

David,  M.  Emeric,  on  the  pictorial 
representation  of  the  Eternal  Fa- 
ther, iii.  397  note. 

Dea  Ccelestis,  Queen  of  Heaven,  wor- 
ship of,  ii.  163  note.  —  See  Astarte. 

Deacons,  institution  of,  i.  374,  375 ; 
ii.  19;  iii.  255.  Reverence  to  them 
enjoined,  iii.  261  note.  The  arch- 
deacon and  sub-deacon,  271. 

Dead  Sea,  why  unlit  for  baptism, 
i    142. 

Deaf  and  dumb  man  cured,  i.  247. 

Decani,  the,  of  Bardesanes,  ii.  79. 

Decapolis,  reception  of  Jesus  by  the 
people  of,  i.  195.  His  restoration  of 
the  deaf  and  dumb  man  there,  247. 

Decius,  emperor,  ii.  107,  176.  His 
persecution  of  the  Christians,  190, 
191,  197,  198.  His  choice  of  Vale- 
rian as  censor,  194.  Pagan  and 
Christian  accounts  of  his  death,  202. 

Decurion,  olhce  of,  ii.  317.  Cause 
of  its  falling  into  disrepute,  318. 
Exeraptions,"318.  Prohibitions,  iii. 
255  note.     Privileges,  280  note. 

Dedication,  Jewish  feast  of  the,  i. 
261  note,  267,  268  note.  Attended 
by  Jesus,  270. 

De'^Guigniaut,  M.,  references  to  the 
"Religions  de  I'Antiquit^  "  of,  i.  18 
note;  ii.  39  note;  iii.  73  note.  His 
notion  relative  to  Oriental  parallels 
to  Christian  incidents,  i.  103  7iote. 

Deity,  predominant  Jewish  notion  of 
the,  i.  30.  Cessation  of  His  sym- 
bolical presence,  31.  Pliny's  no- 
tion, 48.  Epicurean  notions,  43, 
451,  452.  Virgil's  notion,  49.  Ef- 
fect of  Greek  sculptural  art  upon 
popular  notions,  449.  Consequences 
of  a  superiority  to  vulgar  notions  on 
the  subject,  ii.  16.  Union  with  the 
soul,  58.  Deity  of  Gnosticism,  37, 
62,  69-75.  Tenet  of  Origen's  odious 
to  the  monks,  iii.  108.  Conceptions 
of  polytheistic  Christianity,  424- 
426.  Controversies  on  the  subject, 
see  Arius ;  Trinitarianism.  See 
also  God;  Incarnation. 


Delphic  tripod,  the,  ii.  339.  Its 
python  pedestal,  341. 

Demas,  Paul  deserted  by,  i.  473. 

Demetrius,  anti-Christian  tumult 
excited  by,  i.  461. 

Demetrius,  Bishop,  ecclesiastical  of- 
fence of,  iii.  372  note. 

Demiurge,  or  Demiurgos,  creator  or 
spirit  of  the  material  world,  ii.  70 
note,  71,  76,  77,  79,  81.  His  angels, 
71.  The  seven  patriarchs  his  ad- 
herents, 82.  The  evil  Demiurgj, 
prince  of  darkness,  85,  85  note. 

Democritus,  iii.  7. 

Demophilus,  Arian  bishop,  iii.  49. 
Refuses  to  conform  to  the  Kiccne 
doctrine,  120. 

Demosthenes,  iii.  11. 

De  Quincy,  Quatrem^re,  on  the  di- 
mensions of  ancient  temples,  ii.  345 
note. 

Derbe,  preaching  of  Paul  and  Bar- 
nabas at,  i.  402. 

Dervishes,  motives  of,  for  secluding 
themselves,  ii.  40. 

Desert,  supposed  scene  of  the  Temp- 
tation, i.  157.  Its  suitability  as  a 
retreat  for  mystics  and  ascetics,  ii. 
45,  46. 

Desters  of  Magianism,  ii.  255. 

Development,  theory  of,  i.  17  note. 

Diagoras  the  Melian,  i.  453. 

Diana  of  Ephesus,  the  multimamma, 
attributes  symbolized  by,  i.  25;  ii. 
57  note.  Wonders  of  her  temple; 
the  famous  cry,  i.  461,  462. 

Diana  of  Tauris,  site  of  the  altar  of, 
i.  34  note. 

Dic.earchus,  irreligious  sacrifices  by, 
i.  14  note. 

Didymus  the  blind,  controversial 
abilities  of,  iii.  107  note. 

DiNOCRATES,  stoiy  of  the  appearance 
of,  ii.  172. 

Diocese,  origin  of  the,  iii  267. 

Dio  Chrysostom,  description  of  a 
Corinth  fair  by,  i.  454  note. 

Diocletian,  ii.  107,  152,  190,  203, 
245,  260,  278,  280,  284,  299,  306. 
Point  reached  by  Christianity  at 
his  accession,  153,  207-209.  His 
origin  and  assumption  of  Oriental 
majesty,  209,  210.  His  Augusti 
and  Caisars,  and  oppressive  taxes, 
210,  226,  246.  His  disregard  of 
Rome,  211,  213,  246.  His  choice 
of  a  site  for  his  retreat,  211,  226. 
Edict  of  his  recentl}-^  discovered, 
211  note.  Form  of  Paganism  or- 
ganized by  him,  214,  215.  His  po  • 
sition  and  consultations  in  regard 


INDEX. 


455 


to  Christianity,  216-219.  Result  of 
his  appeal  to  the  oracle,  219,  220. 
Persecution  of  the  Christians  under 
himself  and  Galerius,  22U-225,  3Ul; 
iii.  ooo  nott.  His  illness  and  abdi- 
cation, 216  note,  226,  227,  284.  Div- 
ination interdicted  by  him,  297. 
Ettict  of  his  tinancial  system  on  the 
decurions,  317,  318.  Kight  of  the 
clerj>y  annulled  by  him,  319. 

DioDOKUS,  Count,  why  assassinated, 
iii.  21. 

DioD(_)Hus,  antiphonal  choral  singing 
introduced  by,  iii.  409. 

DiOGENKS  the  cynic,  on  the  Fair 
doings  of  the  Corinthians,  i.  454 
note. 

Dion  Cassius  on  the  cruelties  of 
Nero's  lucum  tenens,  i  474,  477.  A 
lost  book  of  his,  ii.  113  note.  Frag- 
ment relating  to  Commodus  re- 
cently recovered,  156  note.  —  See  ii. 
11,  12,  15,  17,  notes. 

DiONYSiAC  rites  prohibited,  i.  14. 

Dyoxysius  of  the  Areopagus,  con- 
version of,  i.  452,  453. 

DiONYsius,  Bishop  of  Milan,  ban- 
ished, ii.  430. 

DiONYSius  of  Halicarnassus,  quota- 
tion by  Lord  Macaulay  from,  i.  35 
note.  Test  applied  to  religion  by 
him,  46. 

Dioscuri,  the,  ii.  339. 

Disciples  oi'  Jesus,  i.  160,  269.  Bap- 
tism administered  by  them,  175. 
The  two  at  Emmaus,  359. 

DisciPLiNA  Akcani,  basis  of  the,  iii. 
322  note. 

Diseases,  incurable,  acquisition  of,  a 
Christian  merit,  iii.  151  note. 

DiviNATio>'s  interdicted,  ii.  297;  iii. 
38.  To  what  extent  tolerated  by 
Valentinian.  iii.  37.  As  practised 
in  Greece,  39.  Details  of  the  cere- 
mony, 44,  45.  Still  extant  in  Italy, 
102.  —  See  Ma(jic. 

Divine  Word.  —  See  Logos. 

Divorce  among  the  Jews,  peculiari- 
ties of,  i.  107,  108  note.  Eftect  of 
the  severity  of  Constantine's  Law, 
ii.  401,  402"';  iii.  294.  Lawof  Hono- 
rius,  294,  295,  notes. 

Docet-E,  theory  of  the,  ii.  65.  Doc- 
trine of  Docetism,  264,  358. 

DoD well's  view  of  the  Neronian 
persecution,  i.  476  note.  .  Date  as- 
signed by  him  to  the  Lyons  martyr- 
doms, ii.  147  note.  His  treatise  "  De 
Paucitate  Martyrum"  unanswered 
and  UD-'^nswerable,  iii.  333  note. 
DOMiTi^  «'s  order  relative  to  David's 


descendants,  and  its  result,  i.  99 
note;  ii.  14.  His  laws  against  the 
Christians,  i.  476  note.  His  treat- 
ment of  his  own  Christian  relatives, 
ii.  15,  16.  Alleged  trial  of  St.  John 
before  him,  IS.  —  See  ii.  10, 17, 131. 

DoMiTiLLA,  niece  of  Domitian,  ii.  16. 
Banished  by  him,  ibid. 

DoNATisM,  origin  of,  ii.  301.  Oppo- 
sition of  the  Donatists  to  decisions 
against  them,  309.  Exile  of  their 
bishops,  and  spoliation  of  their 
churches,  309.  Their  virulent  re- 
prisals, 310.  Conduct  of  their  Cir- 
cumcellion  allies,  310,  311.  Their 
defeat,  and  obstinate  adherence  to 
their  tenets,  314,  315.  Ditference 
between  the  Donatist  schism  and 
the  Trinitarian  controversy,  354, 
355.  Kevocation  of  their  banish- 
ment, iii.  8.  —  See  iii.  272  note,  305, 
409. 

DoNATUS,  Bishop  of  Casee  Nigra;,  of- 
fence charged  on  Bishop  Mensurius 
by,  ii.  304.  Heads  his  part}-,  305. 
Called  before  the  Council  of" Rome, 
3o7.    His  appeal  to  Constantine,  308. 

DoNATUS  n..  Anti-bishop  of  Car- 
thage, assumes  the  lead  of  the  Do- 
natists, ii  308. 

DoRoTHEUS  the  eunuch  put  to  death, 
ii.  224. 

Dracontius  put  to  death,  and  his 
remains  insulted,  iii    21. 

Dracontius,  sample  of  Christian  poe- 
try from  the  collection  of,  iii.  361 
note. 

Drajia,  the,  among  the  Romans,  iii. 
334,  341. 

Druidism  driven  out  by  Roman  civ- 
ilization, ii.  282. 

Drusilla,  how  obtained  to  wife  by 
Aziz,  i.  403  note.  Felix's  agent  in 
detaching  her  from  her  husband, 
ii.  50. 

Dryden,  Rousseau's  theory  antici- 
pated by,  i.  17  note. 

Dualism  of  Persia,  creative  theory  of 
the.  ii.  37.  Incorporated  in  Maui's 
system,  263,  268. 

Dubois  Guchan's  "  Tacite  et  son 
Siecle,"  i.  456  note. 

Du  Perron,  Anquetil,  i.  71  note.  His 
alleged  forgery  of  the  Zendavesta, 
73,  74  note.  —  See  75  note,  77  note; 
ii.  252  note. 


E. 


Earth  and  Sun,  mythic  man-iage  of 
the,  i.  20,  21. 


456 


INDEX. 


Earthquakes  in  the  East,  ii.  105, 
134.  Smyrna,  143.  Constantino- 
ple, iii.  146. 

East,  religions  of  the.  —  See  Oriental- 
ism. 

Easter,  controversy  relative  to,  ii. 
368;  iii.  268,  422  note. 

"Eaten  of  worms,"  ii.  167.  Rulers 
dying  of  the  disease  so  called,  230. 

Ebal  and  Gerizim,  mountains  on 
which  the  Law  was  read,  i.  178. 
—  See  Gerizim. 

Ebionites  the  last  representatives  of 
Judreo-Christianity,  i.  390;  ii.  359. 
Their  social  status,  ii.  56  note. 

EccLESiA  and  Ecclesiasticos,  personi- 
fications in  the  system  of  Valen- 
tinian,  ii.  73,  74. 

Ecclesiastical  offences,  first  tem- 
poral punishment  for,  ii.  374.  Ec- 
clesiastical Greek  and  Latin,  iii. 
Sb7.  —  See  Chu)-ch;   Clergy. 

EcEBOLUS,  restriction  laid  on  Julian 
by,  ii.  461. 

Eclectic  system,  result  of  efforts  to. 
form  an,  ii.  162.  Eclecticism  of  the 
Roman  emperors,  189.  Of  Mani, 
263.  The  Carpocratians  eclectics, 
ii.  83. 

Eclipse,  a  preternatural,  ii.  167. 

Eden,  Garden  of,  ii.  63. 

Ebesius  taken  into  favor  by  the  King 
of  Ethiopia,  ii.  405.  —  See  jEdesius. 

Edessa,  rise  of  Gnosticism  in,  ii.  87. 
Julian's  treatment  of  its  Christian 
disputants,  iii.  9.  Its  famous  tem- 
ple, 72  Its  king,  see  Abcjnr.  See 
also  ii.  117;  iii.  109. 

Education,  public,  denied  by  Julian 
to  Christians,  iii.  10.  Vespasian's 
provisions  for  it  in  Rome,  ibid. 

Egeria,  object  of  communion  with, 
ii.  44. 

Egypt,  i.  9.  Conduct  of  Cambyses 
in,  12  note.  Grecian  way  of  dealing 
with  its  deities,  13.  Heeren's  con- 
jecture relative  to  its  religious  sys- 
tem, 24  note.  Flight  of  Jesus  and 
his  parents  thither,  116.  Magic 
word  at  Avhich  its  plagues  were 
brought  forth,  459.  Expulsion  of 
its  religionists  from  Rome,  ii.  7. 
Its  religion  incorporated  into  Gnos- 
ticism, 37,  68.  Indian  mysticism 
established  in  its  deserts,  45.  Lineal 
ancestors  of  its  monks,  ibid.  Indebt- 
edness of  the  liasilidian  system  to 
its  theology,  69,  69  note.,  70,  70  note, 
72,  73.  Marcion's  application  of  an 
incident  in  its  history,  b  1.  Its  Aga- 
tho-demon,  85,  ibid.  note.  Period  of 


the  insun-ection  under  Trajan,  102. 
A  city  and  temple  founded  and  ded- 
icated to  Antintius,  109.  Hadrian's 
description  of  the  state  of  its  reli- 
gious society,  111  note.  Its  "  might- 
iest ruin,"  124.  On  imperial 
proselytes  of  its  religion,  156,  181. 
Monuments  of  its  glory  and  super- 
stition, 160.  Moment  deemed  favor- 
able by  its  priesthood  for  obtain- 
ing mastery  over  Christianity,  161. 
Assimilation  of  Platonism  'to  its 
higher  mythology,  ibid.  A  parallel 
in  number  to  its  ten  plagues,  190. 
Its  magicians  in  the  array  against 
Constaliline,  3i2.  A  Christian 
Egyptian  at  the  court  of  the  latter, 
38o'.  Theological  controversies  in 
its  metropolis,  Alexandria,  see  Al- 
exandria. Anti-Christian  rescript 
sent  to  its  court,  iii.  66.  Destruction 
of  its  temples  and  idols,  72-81.  Rule 
of  Theophilus,  106.  —  See  ii.  36,  68, 
80,  107,  116,  124,  136, 162,  232,  281, 
364,  382;  iii.  109. 

EiCHHOKN  on  the  incidents  connected 
with  btephen's  martyrdom,  i.  377 
note.  His  conjecture  relative  to  the 
altar  "  To  the  unknown  God,"  451 
note. 

EiRENE,  Church  of,  at  Constantinople, 
ii.  337  note. 

Elagabalus,  worship  imposed  on  the 
senate  by,  ii.  154.  Etymology  of 
his  name,  176.  Celebration  of  wor- 
ship to  him,  176,  177.  His  brutal 
licentiousness,  178.  Religious  sys- 
tem contemplated  by  him,  179.  His 
vagaries  beiore  his  idol  and  human 
sacrifices  on  its  altar,  179.  Effect 
of  his  mother's  training,  180. 

Elamites,  ii.  257  note. 

Elders  of  the  Jewish  synagogue,  ii. 
21.     Of  the  Christian  church,  25. 

Elect,  the,  in  Maui's  system,  ii.  277. 

Election,  Augustine's  theory  of,  iii. 
180. 

Eleusis  and  Kleusinian  mysteries,  i 
40  note.  Their  character,  41,  453. 
Hadrian  a  worsliipper,  ii  108.  The 
nave  of  the  temple,  345  mte.  Its 
Hierophant,  ii.  406.  i\e-edilication 
of  the  temple,  iii.  15.  —  >ce  iii.  81. 

Elijah,  or  Llias,  God's  revelation  to, 
i.  52.  Expectation  of  his  re-appear- 
ance by  the  Jews,  97, 146,  lob.  Why 
held  in  reverence  by  them,  145. 
Prophetic  references  to  liim,  145, 
146,  notes,  147,  249,  250,  347;  ii. 
310. 

Elizabeth,  mother  of  John  the  Bap- 


INDEX. 


457 


list,  i.  98.  The  angel's  declaration 
regarding  her,  100.  Incident  con- 
nected with  }.Iarj"s  vi?it  to  her, 
105.  Degree  of  relationship  be- 
tween them,  ibid.  note.  —  See  John 
the  Baptist. 

Elsley's  "Annotations  on  the  Gos- 
pel," value  of,  i.  108  note. 

Elvira,  or  lUiberis.  —  See,  under 
Councils,  lUiberis. 

Elymas,  or  Bar-Jesus,  Jewish  won- 
der-worker, struck  blind,  i.  400. 
Consequences  of  his  endeavor  to 
outdo  the  apostles,  441  note.  Effect 
of  his  influence  on  Sergius  Paulus, 
443. 

Emanation  system  of  India,  ii.  37, 
3«,  51,  60.  Adopted  by  j\Iani,  2U4. 
—  See  jEons. 

Emblems.  —  See  Symbols. 

Emesa,  the  conical  black  stone  of,  ii. 
176.  Its  triumphant  conveyance 
into  Rome,  177.  Elagabalus  con- 
.•^ecrated  to  its  service,  IbO.  Mas- 
sacre or  its  inhabitants,  236. 

Emmaus,  appearance  of  Jesus  to  the 
disciples  at,  i.  359. 

Empedocles,  ii.  54  note. 

Ennius,  irreligious  system  translated 
by,  i.  49. 

Ennoia,  principles  represented  in 
the  linostic  systems  by  the,  ii.  73, 
85. 

Enoch  in  Marcion's  Gospel,  ii.  82. 

Ephesus,  Paul  at,  i.  409,  427  note, 
Abl.  Trade  reasons  for  upholding 
its  idolatrous  worship,  441  note.  Its 
famous  temple  and  silver  shrines, 
457.  Favor  sliown  to  the  Jews, 
ibid.  Effect  of  Paul's  preachings 
on  its  Jewish  exorcists  and  Pagan 
image-mongers,  45h-462.  Coming 
over  to  the  new  faith,  ii.  11.  Its 
Christian  chiu-ch,  19,  20.  The 
scene  of  the  first  recorded  collision 
between  Christianity  and  Oriental- 
ism, 57.  Kise  of  Gnosticism,  87.  — 
See  i.  472;  ii  18,  25  note,  58.  See 
Diana  of  Ephesus. 

Ephkaem  the  Syrian,  hymns  of,  ii. 
78.  A  representative  of  Syrian 
mvsticism,  iii.  1U6.  Sketch  of  his 
career,  108-110. 

Epictetus,  i.  43. 

Epicureanism,  why  congenial  to  the 
Greeks,  i.  43.  Anecdotes  illustra- 
tive of  the  religious  indifferentism 
of  the  Epicureans,  44.  Lucretius 
a.  cummender  of  their  system,  49. 
Probable  reception  of  St.  Paul's 
orations  by  them,  450-452.     The 


system  in  the  shade,  ii.  187.  —  See 
ii.  129,  182,  475. 

Epiphaxes,  character  of,  ii.  84. 

Epiphanius,  Bishop  of  Cyprus,  words 
of  Mani  given  by,  ii.  26''8  note.  Vis- 
ited by  St.  Jerome,  iii.  230.  On 
clerical  marriages,  283  note.  Char- 
acter of  his  historical  writings,  365. 
—  See  iii.  285,  394,  430  note. 

Epikus  visited  by  Paul,  i.  472, 

Episcopacy",  St.'Jerome's  account  of 
the  origin  of,  ii.  25  note.  Its  growth, 
iii.  254.  The  episcopate  a  necessity, 
255-258.  —  See  Bishops;  Church; 
Clergy. 

Epistolary  Literature  of  Christian- 
ity, its  character  and  value,  iii.  370 
note. 

Equinoxes  ancientl}^  set  apart  for 
religious  solemnities,  i.  20. 

Eedivraph,  story  of  the  origin  and 
destiny  of,  ii.  255.  His  seven  days' 
sleep  and  vision,  255. 

Erictho  of  Lucan,  Gibbon's  criticism 
on  the,  i.  50  mie.  Her  descend- 
ants not  extinct,  iii.  103. 

Erskine,  Mr.,  on  the  authenticity  of 
the  Zendavesta,  i.  74  note. 

Ertang,  the  Gospel  of  Mani,  ii.  263, 
268.  —  See  Mani. 

Esau  and  his  race,  i.  422.  His  posi- 
tion in  Marcion's  Gospel,  ii.  82. 

EsDRAs,  Book  II.,  Avhy  valuable,  i.  88 
note.  Epoch  referred  to  in  it,  ii. 
120.  Source  of  the  fourth  book,  iii. 
364. 

EssENES,  Tsfessianic  anticipation  of 
the,  i.  89.  Peculiar  knowledge 
claimed  bv  them,  97.  Their  mode 
of  life,  143,  162.  Their  baptismal 
ceremonies,  144.  Their  aversion  to 
man-iage;  vital  principle  of  their 
observances,  162.  Opposition  of 
Jesus  to  their  system,  ibid,  note, 
207.  Their  position  with  regard  to 
Him,  286.  Character  of  their  asceti- 
cism, ii.  45.  —  See  ii.  46,  67. 

Ethiopia,  ii.  17.  Preventive  effect 
of  a  plague  on  Severus's  operations, 
160.  Its  conversion  to  Christianity, 
404-407. 

Etruscans,  Roman  rites  derived 
from  the,  i.  26.  Their  haruspices, 
iii.  30.  Influences  of  their  sooth- 
sayers in  Rome,  39,  100 

Eucharist  or  Lord's  Supper,  origin 
of  the,  i.  315,  316.  Its  appointed 
administrators,  ii.  28,  31.  Adopted 
by  the  Manicheans,  274.  Solem- 
nized as  a  sacrifice.  Hi.  321,  322. 
Its  symbolism,  389  note. 


458 


INDEX. 


EuDOXiA,  Empress,  espouses  the 
cause  of  Arianism,  iii.  142.  Her 
hostility  towards  and  triumph  over 

-  Chrysostom,  145,  146.  Occasion  of 
her  "terror  and  remorse,  146.  Her 
enmit}--  again  in  the  ascendant,  148. 
Scene  on  the  erection  of  a  statue  to 
her,  148. 

EuDOXUS  of  Antioch,  Arian,  ascend- 
ency over  Constantius  of,  ii.  449. 
Made  Bishop  of  Constantinople, 
451.  His  influence  over  Valens,  iii 
49. 

EuGENius,  Pagan  joy  at  the  accession 
of,  iii.  93.  His  subservience  to 
Arbogastes,  94.  Defeated  by  Theo- 
dosius,  97.  —See  174,  211. 

EuHEMEKUS,  character  of  the  system 
of,  i.  33  note.  Same  introduced 
into  Rome,  49.  His  origin  and  pre- 
tended discovery,  ibid,  note. 

Eu:mejsius  on  two  temples  of  Apollo, 
ii.  282  note. 

EuNAPius,  charge  against  the  black 
monks  by,  iii.  82  nute.  Other  ref- 
erences to  his  writings,  iii.  47,  79, 
80,  296,  notes. 

EuNOMiANs,  heresy  of  the,  iii.  105, 
106.     Law  against  them,  305  note. 

EuNOMUs,  one  of  the  heroes  of  Philo- 
storgius,  ii.  451  nute. 

Eu^'UCII,  primary  meaning  of  the 
word,  i.  378  note.  Privileges  of 
slaves  mutilated  for  eunuchs,  ii. 
402.  Government  delegated  to 
them,  iii.  247. 

Euphrates,  natural  boundary  for 
Poman  dominions,  ii.  91.  —  See  ii. 
126  note,  136,  253. 

EuKii'iDES,  iii.  359. 

EuKOPE,  Christianity  a  new  arbiter 
of  the  sovereignty  of,  ii.  355. 

EusEP.ius,  Bishop  of  Ca-sarea,  on  the 
James  who  presided  at  the  Council 
of  .Jerusalem,  i.  404  note.  Tradition 
preserved  by  him,  421.  Story  of 
Nicolas  and  his  wife,  told  by  him, 
ii.  59  note.  On  Bardesanes,  78  note. 
Spurious  rescript  preserved  by  him, 
113  note.  Makes  Constantius  a 
Christian,  224  note.  His  inaugural 
discourse  on  the  building  of  the 
church  of  Tyre,  ii.  243,  244;  iii.  378, 
379  note.  On  the  object  of  TJaxi- 
min's  war  against  Tiridates,  ii.  263. 
Question  turning  on  a  speech  re- 
corded by  him,  280  note.  A  fact 
not  vitiated  by  his  silence,  236  note. 
On  Constantine's  vision;  on  his 
clemency  in  battle,  and  on  his  mo- 
tives  for  erecting   Pagan  statues, 


290,  823,  340  note.  Allies  himself 
with  the  Arians,  366.  Hi;  simile 
for  the  bat* ling  bishops,  368.  His 
impression  of,  and  share  in,  the 
meetings  of  the  Council  of  Nic£ea, 
370,  371.  His  notion  of  Constan- 
tine's banquet  to  the  bishops,  372. 
Point  on  which  he  was  a  recusant, 
and  sense  in  wliich  he  subsequently 
accepted  the  same,  373,  374.  Esti- 
mation in  which  he  was  held  by 
Constantine,  377.  Statements  con- 
firmed by  his  suspicious  brevity, 
377,  378.  Summoned  at  the  in- 
stance of  Athanasius,  383.  Con- 
corning  his  statement  that  Con- 
stantine was  a  preacher,  387  w>te. 
On  the  extent  of  the  emperor's  sup- 
pression of,  and  toleration  to.  Pa- 
ganism, 389,  390.  His  character  as 
a  writer;  principle  gloried  in  by 
him,  iii.  365,  368.  — See  ii.  13,  15, 
17,  18,  109,  113,  notes,  161,  284,  286, 
notes,  329,  331,  337,  340,  369,  370, 
372,  373,  7iotts;  iii.  278  note,  282, 
324,  328,  372,  notes,  394,  407  note, 
408  note. 

EusEBius,  Bishop  of  Nicomedia  and 
Constantinople,  ii.  366,  ibid.  note. 
Point  on  which  he  was  a  recusant, 
and  for  which  he  was  banished,  373, 
374.  Suspicion  attaching  to  him; 
grounds  of  his  petition  for  re-iu- 
statement,  376.  First  denounced, 
and  then  taken  into  favor  by  Con- 
stantine, 377.  His  charge  against 
luistathius,  378.  Summoned  to  an- 
swer Athanasius,  383.  His  charac- 
terization of  two  candidates  for  his 
see,  412  note.  Occasion  of  his 
enemies'  taunts,  419;  iii.  266. 

EusEBius,  Bishop  of  A'^ercelhe,  ban- 
ished, ii.  430. 

EusEBius  the  eunuch,  bold  reply  of 
Liberius  to,  ii.  430. 

EusTATiiius,  Bishop  of  Antioch,  na- 
ture of  the  charge  of  heresy  brought 
against,  ii.  378.  His  mission  to  the 
Iberians,  408.  Cause  of  the  views 
of  his  followers  regarding  married 
priests,  iii.  284,  284  note.  —  See  iii. 
286. 

EusTocHiUM,  honor  claimed  by  Je- 
rome for,  iii.  234  note.  Character 
of  his  letter  to  her,  234,  235,  mdes. 

EuTP.oPius,  proconsul,  refusal  of  Pa- 
siphilus  to  give  evidence  against, 
iii.  46. 

EuTKOPius  the  eunuch,  one  of  the 
few  good  deeds  of,  iii.  138.  Result 
of  Chrysostom's  plea  in  his  behalf, 


INDEX. 


459 


139.  His  ultimate  fate,  ibid.  —  See 
253. 

EuTYCHiANisM  One  of  the  products 
of  tlie  Athanasian  controversy,  ii- 
420. 

EvAGRius  attempts  to  save  the  Chris- 
tians from  the  Pagans,  iii.  76.  On 
the  asceticism  of  Simeon  Stylites, 
210  7U)te. 

Eva>;gelists,  discussions  regarding 
the  priority  of  the,  i.  128.  As  to 
their  sources  of  information,  inspi- 
ration, style,  &c.,  129,  130,  270  note, 
355,  356  note,  362  note.  —  See  Gos- 
pels. 

Eve's  seduction  by  the  Serpent,  in  the 
Gnostic  systems,  ii.  86  note.  Her 
position  in  Mani's  system,  270. 

Evil,  principle  of,  and  ultimate  iden- 
titication  of  Satan  therewith,  i.  78. 
Its  connection  with  theories  of  the 
Temptation,  156.  In  the  Gnostic 
systems,  ii.  08,  67.  Origin  of  evil, 
iii.  179.  —  See  Bardesanes;  Basil- 
ides  ;  Maui ;  Valentinus. 

Evodus,  favorite  of  Severus,  ii.  158. 

Excommunication,  origin  of,  iii.  257. 
By  exclusion  from  communion,  300. 
By  anathema,  300,  301. 

Exouus,  illustrative  references  to  the 
book  of,  i.  302,  314  note. 

ExoRCiS3i  practised  by  the  Pharisees, 
i.  229.  Jewish  exorcists  and  the 
name  of  Jesus,  409,  459,  460.  Du- 
ties of  the  Christian  exorcist,  iii. 
271. 

Expositions  of  faith,  iii.  367.  What 
the}-  comprehended,  369. 

Ezekiel's  reference  to  a  future  state, 
82.  His  predictions  and  the  Sibyl- 
line verses,  ii.  122.  Ezekiel  Tragoe- 
dus,  ibid.  note. 

Ezra,  remigration  of  the  Jews  under, 
i.  67. 


F. 


Fabianus,  Bishop  of  Rome,  put  to 
death,  ii.  191.  The  lirst  mart>T 
pope,  192  note,  iii.  333  note.  Cav.  de 
Eossi's  discovery  regarding  him,  ii. 
192  note. 

Fabiola,  cause  of  the  interest  excited 
by  the  inrerment  of,  iii  325. 

Fabius  3IAXIMUS.  conduct  of,  ap- 
proved by  the  citizens,  i.  14  note. 

Fable,  religious,  the  supplanter  of 
Nature- worship,  i.  21.  Vestiges 
of  theogonic  tables,  24.  Class  of 
Greek  fables  rejected  by  the  Ro- 


mans, 26  note.  Strabo's  reasoning 
on  the  need  for  fables,  45. 

Fabricius,  theory  of  Constantine's 
vision  syggested  by,  ii.  290  note.  — 
See  iii.  364  note. 

Fadus. — See  Cuspins  Fadus. 

Faith,  object  of  the  aspirations  of,  iii. 
413.  Establishment  of  its  reign, 
417.  —  See  Expositions. 

Famines:  Antioch,  i.  386.  Rome,  ii. 
136. 

FANATicisrii,  growth  of,  iii.  216. 

Faquir,  the,  il.  40. 

Fatalism,  Stoic  doctrine  of,  i.  452. 

Father,  the.  —  See  Deity ;  God 

Fathers,  dependence  of  the  Rabbins 
on  the  traditions  of  the,  iii.  265. 

Fausta,  Constantine's  second  wife, 
put  to  death,  ii.  328.  Offences 
charged  upon  her,  328.  Gibbon's 
doubt  regarding  her,  329  note. 

Fausta,  Princess,  and  the  Domus 
Faustce,  ii.  298  7iote. 

Faustus  the  Manichean,  orthodox 
Christians  taunted  with  idolatry 
by,  iii.  331. 

Feasts.  —  See  Festivals. 

Felicitas,  martyrdom  of,  ii.  168, 169, 
175. 

Felicitas,  St.,  and  her  seven  chil- 
dren, ancient  painting  of  the  mar- 
tyrdom of,  iii.  4i»l. 

Felix,  commencement  of  the  Judtean 
prefectship  of,  i.  395.  A  disturber 
of  his  rule,  411.  Paul  sent  before 
him;  his  motive  for  leniency,  415, 
416.  Chronological  difficulties  I'ela- 
tive  to  his  administration,  416  note. 
His  agent  in  his  design  on  Drusilla, 
ii.  50. 

Felix,  Bishop  of  Apthunga,  conse- 
crates Cajcilian,  ii.  305.  Crime 
charged  on  him,  309.  Verdict 
thereon,  309. 

Felix,  forced  on  Rome  as  its  bishop, 
ii.  430.  Refusal  of  Liberius  to  share 
the  see  with  him,  431. 

Felix  Minucius.  —  See  Minucius 
Felix. 

Felix,  St.,  nature  and  extent  of  the 
adoration  paid  to,  iii.  427  7iote. 

Fejiales,  laws  of  Constantine  for  the 
protection  of,  ii.  399-402.  Extrava- 
gant toilettes  of  Roman  (Christian 
females,  iii.  251, 252.  The  Mulieres 
subintroductce  of  the  clergy,  287. 
Actresses,  see  Women  Players. 

Festivals  of  ancient  Rome,  their 
character,  i.  26.  Vitality  of  the 
Lupercalia,  iii.  102.  Church,  festi- 
vals of  the,  iii.  327-332.     Jewish, 


460 


INDEX. 


see  Dedication ;  Passover ;  Taberna- 
cles. 

Festus,  Prefect  of  Judaea,  his  deal- 
ings with  Paul,  i.  416.  His  death 
and  successor,  418, 

Festus  of  Ephesus,  cause  of  the  re- 
morse and  death  of,  iii.  47. 

Fetichism,  nature  of,  i.  19.  Origin 
of  the  word  "Fetiche,"  ibid.  note. 
—  See  24  note. 

Feudal  system,  groundwork  of  the, 
iii.  53. 

Field's  work  on  the  Church,  iii.  430 
note. 

Fig-tree,  the  barren,  cursed  by  Je- 
sus, i.  295,  296.  Fact  symbolized 
by  it,  297. 

Fine  Arts.  —  See  Art. 

Fire,  why  sanctified  among  the  Per- 
sians, ii.  39. 

Fire-worshippers  spared  by  Ardes- 
chir,  ii.  256. 

FiRMiLiANUS  on  apostolic  authority, 
iii.  262  note. 

Fisherman's  Porch,  Church  of  the 
Apostles,  ii.  404. 

Fishes,  the  miraculous  draught  of,  i. 
188. 

Flagellation,  amenability  of  the 
clergy  to,  iii.  281.  Authority  for 
its  administration,  ibid.  note. 

Flavian  dynasty,  ii.  6, 10.  Occasion 
of  foundation  of  a  college  in  honor 
of  the  family,  294. 

Flavi ANUS,  subservience  of  Eugenius 
to,  iii.  94. 

JY-AvfANUS,  Bishop  of  Antioch,  his 
welcome  to  Chrysostom,  iii.  126. 
Mission  of  mercy  imdertaken  by 
him,  129.  Its  result,  132.  Antipho- 
nal  singing  introduced  by  him,  409. 

Flavius  Clemens,  character  and  im- 
perial Ifinship  of,  ii.  15.  Why  put  to 
death ;  explanation  of  the  idiosyn- 
crasies of  liis  character,  16.  Peace- 
offering  for  his  execution,  17. 

Flavius  Sabinus,  ii.  15. 

Fleciiier,  Vie  de  Theodose,  iii.  211 
note. 

Fleury,  on  Tyrolesc  martyrdom  by, 
iii.  69  note.  On  consecrated  vessels, 
159  note.  Miracle  upheld  by  him, 
165  note.  Ciiaracter  of  his  writings, 
238  «o<e.  — See  211  n<de. 

Flogging  in  schools,  antique  author- 
ity for,  iii.  281  note. 

Florus,  Prefect  of  JudiBa,eirect  of  the 
tyranny  of,  i.  310,  395,  471.  Date 
of  his  prefecture,  471  note. 

FoHi,  Chinese  deity,  tradition  of  the 
birth  of,  i.  103  note. 


Fortune,  statues  and  temples  of,  and 
their  fate:  Rome,  ii.  286.  Byzan- 
tium, 339,  340.  Constantinople,  iii. 
9,  16. 

Forum  at  Rome,  and  temples  sur- 
rounding it,  ii.  345. 

Franks,  shape  taken  by  the  savage 
orthodoxy  of  the,  ii.  355  note.  —  See 
iii.  8,  9,  64. 

Fravitta,  ancient  Roman  usage  vio- 
lated in  the  marriage  of,  iii.  296 
n<:te. 

Freemasonry,  earlv  Christian  paral- 
lel to,  iii.  387  note". 

Free  Will  and  Necessity,  iii.  178. 

FRU3IENTIUS,  reception  "in  Ethiopia 
of,  ii.  406.  Converted  to  Christian- 
ity and  made  Bishop  of  Axum,  407. 

FuLGENTius,  St.,  unchristian  axiom 
of,  iii.  181  note. 

Fundanus.  —  See  Minucius  Funda- 
nus. 

Funerals,  Scythian  custom  of  im 
molation  at,  ii.  261.  Christian  Fu- 
.  nerals,  iii.  323.  Substitution  of 
inhumation  for  cremation,  323,  324 
Their  magnificence,  325.  Various 
burial  customs  of  heathens  and 
Christians,  324-326  notes.—  See  389 
note. 

Future  life  and  state,  i.  32,  47. 
See  Immortality  of  the  Soul. 


G. 


Gabelentz,  Dr.,  edition  of  Ulphilas 
by,  iii.  60  note. 

Gabriel,  derivation  of  the  name, 
i.  77  note.  His  appearance  and 
promise  to  Zachariah,  97. 

Gad  the  prophet,  loss  of  the  books 
of,  i.  70. 

Galatia  and  the  Galatians,  and  St. 
Paul's  Epistles,  i.  426,  427  note. 
Nationality  of  the  converts,  444. 
Revisited  by  Paul,  456. 

Galen,  an  exception  to  the  philo 
sophic  dearth  of  his  time,  iii.  422 
note. 

Galerius.  Emperor,  suspicions  re 
garding  the  wife  of,  ii.  208.  His 
unsuccessful  campaign,  218.  Pa- 
gan fanaticisni  of  i.iS  mother,  219. 
I  His  inhuman  nersecution  of  the 
Christians,  220-224.  Succeeds  Dio- 
cletian, 227.  Constantine's  escape 
from  him,  228,  285.  His  remorse, 
peculiar  disease,  repentant  edict, 
and  death,  230,  231,  279.  His 
unacquaintance    with,  and    threat 


INDEX. 


461 


against,  Rome,  248  note.  Deified 
bv  Maxentius,  286.  — See  ii.  232, 
233,  284,  288. 

Galerius  Maximus,  Proconsul  of 
Carthage,  ii.  200.  His  sentence  on 
Cyprian,  201. 

Galileans,  Julian's  epithet  for  the 
Christians,  iii.  8,  9,  12,  31.  —  See 
Judas  the  Galilean. 

Galilee,  curious  Talmudic  passage 
relating  to  the  people  of,  i.  192 
note.  Densit}'  of  its  population  ac- 
cording to  Josephus,  193.  Races 
inhabiting  it,  and  their  conflicts, 
ibid.  note.  Their  slaughter  in  the 
Temple,  242,  280.  Suggested  cause 
thereof,  243. 

Galileo,  authorities  relied  on  for  the 
condemnation  of,  iii.  422. 

Gallienus  restores  peace  to  the 
Christian  Church,  ii.  202.  Effect 
of  his  law,  207.  Inroads  of  the 
Goths  during  bis  reign,  iii.  59. 

Gallic,  Roman  proconsul  in  JudsBa, 
result  of  an  appeal  against  the 
Christians  to,  i.  418,  455,  456. 

Gallus,  youthful  imprisonment  of, 
ii.  459.  '  Chapel  built  by  liim  and 
Julian,  ibid.  His  death,  464.  A 
suspected  participator  therein,  iii. 
21. 

Gamaliel,  Paul's  teacher,  i.  372.  His 
counsels  to  the  Sanhedrin  relative  to 
the  apostles,  372,  373. 

Games,  Gentile  and  idolatrous,  ii.  99. 
Quinquennial,  established  by  Ha- 
drian, 109.  Olympic  games,  iii. 
340.  —  See  Festivals. 

Ganges,  purifying  power  ascribed  to 
the,  i.  144.  '^The  population  on  its 
shores,  ii.  45. 

Gangka,  Council  of,  iii.  284.  —  See 
Councils. 

Gau,  Nubia,  inscription  discovered 
at,  ii.  405  note. 

Gaudentius,  Bishop  of  Rimini,  put 
to  death,  ii.  450. 

Gaul  civilized  by  Roman  influences, 
i.  11.  Ancient  superstitions,  49. 
Its  Christian  congregations,  ii.  116. 
Attack  upon  them,  148.  Protected 
by  Constantius,  228.  Constitution 
of  society,  282.  Scene  of  Constan- 
tiue's  vision,  289.  Dispute  referred 
to  its  bishops,  306.  Extirpator  of 
its  idolatry,  iii.  82.  —  See  ii.  107, 
136,  228,  285,  288,  369. 

Gaza,  Pagan  cruelties  in,  iii.  14.  Its 
temple  closed,  71. 

Gelasius,  Pope,  Roman  games  sup- 
pressed b.y,  iii.  102.  —  See  282  note. 


Gelox,  the  tjTant,  humane  edict  as 
cribed  to,  i.  35  note. 

Genemdes,  cause  of  his  thi-owing  up 
his  commission,  iii.  99. 

Gexnesai'.et,  Lake  or  Sea  of,  i.  160, 
187,  221.  Jesus  crossing  the  lake, 
23G.  Walking  on  its  waters,  237. 
His  interview  with  Peter,  361. 

Gentile  proselytes,  initiatory  rites 
imposed  upon,  i.  145,  148,  224. 
Church  formed  by  them,  ii.  21,  23. 
Declaration  of  Jesus  regarding 
them,  i.  223.  Paul's  influence  in 
their  conversion,  392.  Character 
of  the  first  Gentile  convert,  442. 
—  See  ii.  99,  137. 

George  of  Cappadocia,  Arian  Bishop 
of  Alexandria,  character  of,  ii.  433, 
434,  435;  iii.  20.  A  priest  before 
he  was  a  Christian,  ii.  434.  His 
malversations,  persecutions,  and 
trading  speculations,  434,  435.  His 
insults  to  Paganism,  and  nmrder  by 
a  mob,  iii.  21.  —  See  iii.  22. 

Geoi:ge  of  Pisidia,  verses  on  the 
Virgin  by,  iii.  431  note. 

Gepid.e,  Christianity  embraced  by 
the,  iii.  61. 

Gerasa,  Roman  architecture  at,  ii 
350. 

Gerizim,  the  sacred  mountain  of  the 
Samaritans,  i.  177,  178.  Legend  of 
concealed  sacred  vessels,  182.  —  See 
179,  306. 

Ger:man  writers  on  Christianity,  pe- 
culiarities of  the  speculations  of, 
i.  270,  352,  notes.  German  words 
lacking  English  equivalents,  iii. 
385  note. 

GER3IANICUS  the  emperor, *ii.  455. 

Germanicus  the  martyr,  ii.  139. 

Gerjiany,  confederacy  against  Rome 
of  the  nations  of,  ii.  136,  145,  148, 
153,  229,  299;  iii.  64.  The  "thun- 
dering legion,"  ii.  144.  Transfer  of 
the  seat  of  government  to  its  fron- 
tier, 317.  Barbarities  perpetrated 
upon  its  captive  chieftains,  o:i5. 

Gerontius,  Bishop  of  Nicomedia,  de- 
posed by  Chrysostom,  iii.  269  note. 

Gervaise,  Ambrose's  dream  relative 
to  the  reiiques  of,  iii.  165,  166. 

Gesenius  on  prophetic  passages  in 
Isaiah,  i.  65,  69,  notes.  On  a  Sa- 
maritan poetic  reference  to  the  I'lles- 
siah,  ISO  note. 

Geta,  martyrdom  dated  at  the  acces- 
sion of,  ii.  168. 

Gethsemane,  derivation  of  the  word, 
i.  317  note. 

Gibbon,  Roman  historian,  on  humau 


462 


INDEX. 


sacrifices  under  the  Romans,  i.  35 
note.  His  criticism  on  Lucan's 
"  Erictlio,"  i.  50  note.  On  a  passage 
in  Phlegon,  346  note.  An  improba- 
ble conjecture  of  his,  470  note. 
Anachronisms,  ii.  256  note.  A  well- 
founded  sarcasm,  314.  Instance  of 
his  poetic  taste,  iii.  117,  note.  —  See 
i.  47  note.,  72,  148  note.,  348  note  ;  ii. 
14,  20,  35,  notes;  iii.  15,  27,  95,  o6S, 
notes. 

Glaj)iators,  Jewish  captives  forced 
to  exhibit  as,  ii.  100.  Constantino- 
ple never  disgraced  by  their  pres- 
ence, 343;  iii.  349.  Doom  of  crimi- 
nals, ii.  398.  System  and  practices 
in  the  Roman  gladiatorial  shows, 
iii.  347,  348.  Elfect  of  the  spread 
of  Christianity  upon  them,  349. 
Occasion  of  their  abolition,  350.  An 
imperial   gladiator,   see    C<>mmochis. 

Glaucias,  alleged  teacher  of  Basil- 
ides,  ii.  68. 

Gnostic  systems  and  doctrines,  chief 
parent  of,  i.  69.  Scripture  passages 
embarrassing  to  their  ascetics,  168 
note.  Their  contact  with  and  in- 
fluence on  Eastern  Christianity,  390 ; 
ii.  4 1 ,  46, 48,  56,  301.  Later  Gnostics 
and  their  innovations,  ii.  61.  Their 
primal  deity,  62,  64,  358.  Cause  of 
the  unpopularity  of  Gnosticism,  87. 
Its  attitude  towards  Paganism,  88. 
Its  systems  rejected  by  Ati-ican 
Christianity,  163,  164.  Its  compli- 
cation with  Manicheism,  264,  278. 
Birthplaces  of  its  various  sects,  281. 
Nature  of  its  asceticism,  355.  The 
Triiiitarifin  controversy  one  of  its 
growths,  356.  Contempt  of  Gnos- 
tics for  the  Old  Testament,  iii.  263. 
Their  hjinns,  359.  Their  symbols 
and  images,  387,  394.  Their  yEous, 
see  JEons.  Various  exponents  of 
Gnosticism  and  kindred  systems, 
see  Bardesanes ;  B-isilides ;  Cdrpoc- 
rntes;  Cerinthus;  Mani;  Marcion; 
Ophites ;  Saturninus ;   Valentinus. 

God,  argument  for  the  humanization 
of,  i.  25  n<jte.  Early  Jewish  con- 
ceplions,  29,  30.  Egyptian,  Indian, 
and  Grecian  notions,  30,  31.  Ulti- 
mate results  of  symbolizing  Deity 
under  the  human  form,  33.  Elijah's 
description  of  (iod's  revelation  of 
Himself,  52.  His  position  in  the 
Christian  system,  54.  .Modilied  no- 
tions of  the  one  Supreme  Deity,  78. 
Altar  to  the  Unknown  God,  451. 
Eichhom's  explanation,  ibid.  note.  — 
See  Deity. 


Gods  of  Paganism.  —  See  Paganism. 
GoDEFitOY,  on  intermarriage  with  a 
niece,  ii.  401  «o^e.  —  See  iii.  105,  335, 
337,  notes 
GoETic  sacrifices  suppressed  by  Jo- 
vian, iii.  35  note.  —  See  39. 
Golgotha,  most  probable  derivation 

of,  i.  342  note. 
GooD-FiJiDAY  tumult  in  Santa  So- 
phia, iii.  149. 
Good  Shepherd,  symbolic  representa- 
tion of  the,   iii.   388.      Its  heathen 
prototype,    ibid.    note.      An    early 
statue,  397  note. 
GoKDiAN,  reign  of,  ii.  189.  —  See  176 

note. 
GouDius,  circumstance  connected  with 

the  martyrdom  of,  iii.  339  note. 
GoRGOMUS  martyred,  ii.  224. 
Gospels,  scope  and  character  of  the, 
i.  57.  Rousseau's  testimony  to  their 
genuineness,  58  note.  Apocryphal 
corroboration  of  a  portion  of  their 
nan-ative,  100  w^te.  Distinguishing 
feature  between  the  genuine  and  the 
apocryphal,  ibid,  note  3.  Strauss's 
criticisms  upon  them,  118,  119,  239 
note.  Spurious  gospels,  their  char- 
acter and  object,  i  123;  iii.  364. 
Weisse's  criticisms,  i.  124.  Theo- 
ries as  to  their  origin,  126,  127. 
Chronological  discrepancies,  128. 
Nature  and  extent  of  the  inspira- 
tion of  the  Evangelists,  130,  131. 
Objection  common  to  all  harmonies, 
270  note.  Gospel  of  the  Judifio- 
Christians  of  Pella,  433.  The  last 
of  the  Gospels,  ii.  57,  58.  Gnostic 
attempts  at  reconciliation  with  the 
Gospel,  80.  Its  last  ordeal,  207. 
Its  progress  arrested,  251.  Crimes 
repressed  by  its  influence,  402. — 
See  Evoncjtlists;  Jesus. 
Gotitofred's   note   on  the  law  of 

Honorius,  iii.  287  note^  289  note. 
GoTiis,  beneficial  consequences  to 
themselves  of  their  capture  of 
Christian  slaves,  iii.  59.  Their 
language  and  alphabet,  59,  60. 
One  cause  of  their  possible  loss 
of   the    art    of    writing,    59    note. 

\      Their  energetic  espousal  of  Arian- 

I       ism.  61-63.     Destructive  effects  of 
their  invasions  upon   art,  82   note. 

!       —See  ii.  202,  222;  iii.  64. 

I  Gkacchi,  the,  iii.  96. 

I  Grace,  August  in  ian   notion    of,   iii. 

I       180. 

[  Granianus.  —  See   Serenus  Grania- 

I      nus. 

I  Gratian,  Emperor,  iii.  62,  84.     In- 


INDEX. 


463 


fluence  of  Ambrose  over  him,  86. 
Alarm  of  the  Pagans  at  his  refusal 
of  the  pontificate  and  degradation  of 
the  statue  of  Victory,  fc6-88.  His 
murder,  89,  His  law  against  her- 
esy, 104,  305  note.  — See  97,  340 
note. 

Greece,  political  system  derived  fi-om 
the  monarchy  of,  i.  9.  Its  policy  in 
religious  matters,  13.  Character 
of  the  anthropomorphism  of  the 
Greeks,  24.  Features  in  their  re- 
ligion rejected  bv  the  Romans,  26 
7iote.  Influence  fatal  to  their  re- 
ligion, 33.  Purification  by  washing, 
144.  Jewish  signification  of  the 
term  "  Greek,"  294.  Kelative  posi- 
tion of  its  magistracy  and  priest- 
hood, 440.  Resort  of  women  to  its 
rivers,  445.  Its  social  and  religious 
system  averse  to  Coenobitism,  ii. 
42,  43.  Its  deities  earned  to  Con- 
stantinople, 339.  Its  temples,  345. 
Result  of  the  distinctness  and  sub- 
tleness of  its  language,  356.  Char- 
acter of  Sotadic  verses,  365,  366, 
notts.  Its  amusements  in  Constan- 
tinople, 398.  Regard  towards  the 
dead,  475.  The  hand  of  death  upon 
its  intellectual  manifestations,  iii.  5, 
6.  Public  divination  at  an  end,  39. 
Influence  of  persecution  upon  its 
literature,  47.  Difterence  between 
Greek  and  Christian  poetry,  115. 
No  distinguished  Christians  among 
its  natives,  110,  HI.  Its  Olympic 
games,  340.  Causes  of  the  degene- 
racy of  its  language,  355.  —  See 
At/iens;  J^jncureanism ;  Plato;  Py- 
thagoras. 

Geegoky  of  Cappadocia  made  Bishop 
of  Alexandria,  ii.  417. 

Gkegoky  the  Illuminator,  apostle  of 
Armenia,  inauspicious  parentage  of, 
ii.  259,  26U.  Alleged  supernatural 
accompaniment  to  his  baptism,  260. 
His  persecution  and  long  imprison- 
ment, 261.  Fruits  of  his  prayers; 
made  archbishop,  262. 

Gregory  of  Nazianzum,  miracle  at- 
tested by,  ii.  460  note.  His  intimacy 
with  Basil,  465;  iii.  111.  His  birth 
and  parentage,  114.  His  autobio- 
graphic poems,  iii  115-117,330  note, 
359.  A  bishopric  forced  upon  him, 
117.  His  labors  as  Bishop  of  Con- 
stantinople, 118,  119.  His  disputes 
with  Maximus  the  Cynic,  119,  120. 
His  retirement  and  asceticism  in  his 
old  age,  121,  122.  His  views  of 
baptism,  320  note.  —  See  iii.  5,  8, 


15,  5^, notes,  106,  203  note.  285,  287, 
328  note,  426  note. 

Gkegoky  of  Nvssa,  iii.  44  72nte,  51 
note,  106.  Brother  of  Basil,  111. 
His  remonstrance  against  pilgrim- 
ages, 197  note.  On  the  heroic  acts 
of  Theodosius,  402,  403  notes.  His 
definition  of  a  hvmn,  407  note.  —  See 
203  nvie,  286,  344  note,  392,  426, 427, 
notes. 

Gregory  I.  (the  Great),  Pope,  eflPect 
of  a  prayer  of,  ii.  107.  Chant  in- 
troduced by  him,  iii.  410.  W  hat  he 
.«aw  in  the  Lombard  invasion,  423; 
424. 

Gkeswell,  Mr.,  on  a  passage  in  St. 
Luke,  i.  108  note.  On  facts  in 
Christ's  life,  112  note,  267  note.  — 
See  i.  373,  414,  notes ;  ii.  95  note. 

Griesbach,  on  the  Evangelists,  i.  356 
nnte. 

Grotius,  views  of,  on  some  contro- 
verted points,  i.  96,  137,  205,  258, 
341,  348,  373,  notes. 

Guig:niaut.  —  See  Be  Guigniaut. 

GuizoT,  M.,  on  passages  in  Gibbon, 
i.  o4b  note;  iii.  27  note. 

Gunpowder  Plot,  classic  parallel  to 
the,  i.  476  note. 

GubiTTASP  identified  with  Cyaxares, 
i.  73  7wte. 

Gymnastic  games,  iii.  340. 

GY3IMOSOPHISTS  of  India,  ii.  78. 


H. 


Haag,  Dr.  Mai-tin,  on  the  Zoroastrian 
writings,  i.  72,  75,  ibid,  notes.  His 
notion  of  the  Yathas,  75  .7iote.  On 
a  separate  evil  spirit,  78  imte. 

Habet  Deum,  Donatist  bishop,  on  the 
persecutions  of  his  pariy,  ii.  311 
note.  His  name  a  Puritan  anticipa- 
tion, 313  nt'te. 

Hadrian,  human  sacrifices  prohibited 
by,  i.  34  note.  Circumstances  con- 
nected with  the  Jewish  insuiTectioii 
during  his  reign,  69,  148  fiote,  4G0 
note;  ii.  15,  56  note,  93,  102,  253. 
Christians  permitted  to  reside  in  hi^ 
new  city,  i.  433,  434.  Jews  pro- 
hibited, i.  434;  ii.  350.  His  mo- 
tive for  limiting  the  boundaries  of 
his  empire,  ii.  91.  His  attention  to 
internal  alfairs  and  character  as  a 
statesman,  92,  94, 107-109.  Extent 
of  his  travels,  108  iwte.  His  con- 
duct towards  Christianity,  109-111. 
Christianity  beyond  his  comprehen- 
sion, 111.      His   letter  concerning, 


464 


IKDEX. 


and  curiosity  on,  religious  matters, 
and  his  famous  verses,  111  notes, 
125,  126. —  See  i.  433;  ii.  66  note, 
94,  112;  iii.  74,400  note. 

Hadkiaxople,  battle  of,  ii.  323. 

H-EKEDiPETY ,  legacy  hunting,  a  cleri- 
cal vice,  iii.  27  y. 

Ha>'NAh,  parallel  to  the  song  of,  i. 
105. 

Hakno  the  Carthaginian,  story  told 
of,  ii.  54  note. 

Hakimonius,  long  popularity  of  the 
hymns  of,  ii.  77;  iii.  109. 

Heathenism,  ii.  100.  Its  sibyls,  122. 
Sibj-lline  denunciation  of  its  fall, 
123.  Moditying  influences  of 
Christianity  upon  it,  184,  185.  Ju- 
lian's attempts  connected  with  it, 
188,  214;  iii.  15.  An  aspect  of 
Christianity  astonishing  to  its  fol- 
lowers, ii.  182.  Adoption  by  Chris- 
tian disputants  of  one  of'^its  evil 
practices,  878.  Its  late  presence  in 
Italy,  iii.  102.  Its  calendar,  335.  Its 
burial  customs,  S25,  326,  note. — 
See  Paganism;  Polytheism.  See 
also  ii.  332,  353,  370,  380,  3S4,  388, 
395;  iii.  414. 

Heaven,  voices  from,  i.  97  note,  152, 
153.  Explanation  of  the  phenome- 
non, 153  note,  295  note. 

Hebkew,  the  original  sacred,  under- 
stood only  by  the  learned,  i.  365. 
Its  first  great  Christian  student, 
iii.  198. 

Hebron,  originally  a  Levitical  city, 
i.  98.  Scene  of  John's  first  teach- 
ings, 142.  Site  of  the  angel's  visit 
to  Abraham,  ii.  353. 

Hecate,  wonders  worked  in  the  tem- 
ple of,  ii.  462. 

Hedone  and  Henosis,  attributes  per- 
sonified b}',  ii.  74. 

Heeken  on  the  rehgion  of  Egypt, 
i.  24  note. 

Hegesippus  and  the  narrative  of  St. 
James's  death,  i.  419.  Story  re- 
lated of  our  Lord's  family  by  him, 
ii.  13.  Character  of  his  stories, 
i.  419  note;  ii.  14. 

>Iegewisch's  work  on  the  happiest 
epoch  of  Roman  historj^,  ii.  6  note. 
Theory  ably  developed  by  him,  92 
note.  —  See  105  note. 

Heinichen's  efibrts  relative  to  Hege- 
sippus, i.  419  note.  His  characteri- 
zation of  the  life  of  Coustantine, 
ii.  290  note.  His  discussion  of  Con- 
stantine's  vision,  290  note.  On  the 
Council  of  Nicaja,  370  note.  —  See 
iii.  366,  394,  notes. 


Helen  of  Troy,  ii.  52, 

Helena,  Queen  of  the  Adiabeni,  Jew- 
ish reverence  for  the  memory  of, 
i.  68. 

Helena,  mother  of  Coustantine,  i.  68. 
Church  built  by  her  over  Jacob's 
well,  178  note.  Her  religion,  ii.  228. 
Crime  detected  by  her,  328.  Her 
restoration  of  the  holy  places  at  Je- 
rusalem, 351. 

Helena  of  Tyre,  companion  of  Si- 
mon Magus,  ii.  51.  Sublimed  into 
an  allegory,  52.  Practice  sanctified 
under  her  name,  90  note. 

Heliopolis,  Pagan  cannibalism  at,  iii. 
\'j.  One  of  its  temples  consecrated 
to  Chrif-tian  worship,  71. 

Helius,  jS^ero's  treed  slave  and  locum 
tenens,  possibly  Paid's  murderer, 
i.   474. 

Hellabiciius  and  Ceesarius,  dele- 
gates of  i  heodosius  in  Antioch,  iii. 
130.     Their  humanity,  131. 

Helladius,  murderous  boast  of,  iii. 
77. 

Hekcules,  ii.  123,  154.  An  impe- 
rial usurper  of  his  attributes,  156. 
Greek  epigram  thereon,  156  note. 

Herculius,  title  assumed  by  Max- 
imian,  ii.  214,  227,  2.'-4. 

Heresy  and  Heretics,  punishment 
for  concealing  Avorks  of,  ii  374  note. 
First  heretics  condemned  to  death, 
iii.  65,  172,  173.  Edict  of  the  three 
emperors  against  them,  104,  105. 
Ecclesiastical  penalties  for  the  of- 
fence, 303,  416.  Severity  of  the 
laws  of  Theodosius,  304,  305.  Law 
of  Gratian,  305  note.  Epiphanius's 
"History  of  Heretical  Sects,"  365. 
The  "Itefuter  of  Heresies,"  see 
IJij}j)ol)jtus.  —  See  iii.  430  7ioie.  See 
also  Jovinian  ;  Manes ;  Viyilantius  ; 
Simon  Magus. 

Hermeneutics,  or  commentaries  on 
the  sacred  Avriters,  iii.  367.  Their 
character  and  contents,  368. 

Hermes,  or  Termiiuis,  i.  437. 

Hermits,  ii.  46.  Their  retreats  in- 
vaded by  Valcns,  iii.  52  note.  The 
alleged  first  hermit,  206  note. 

Hermogenes,  Christ  placed  in  the 
sun  by,  ii.  215  note.  Sins  laid  to 
his  charge  by  Tertullian,  iii.  383. 

Hermogenes,  Kouian  commander, 
cause  of  his  murder  by  the  popu- 
lace, ii.  419.  —  See  426. 

Herod  the  Great,  impolitic  cruelty 
of,  i.  61.  His  last  popular  exercise 
of  authorit}^,  ibid.  Causes  of  his 
unpopularity  and  hopes  excited  by 


INDEX- 


465 


his  death,  62,  91.  His  testamentary 
cruelty  and  its  motive,  ibid  Cir- 
cumstances conducing  to  liis.  edict 
for  the  slaughter  of  the  innocents, 
110,  111.  Castle  fortilied  by  him, 
114  note.  Proof  of  the  subtlety  of 
his  character,  116.  His  death/ll7. 
Sublimated  into  an  allegory,  125. 
Opposition  to  his  introduction  of 
games  into  Judi^a,  ii.  99.  Peculiar 
disease  of  which  he  died,  230.  — 
See  i.  99,  109,  113,  114,  176. 

Herod  Antipas,  i.  117, 175.  His  in- 
cestuous marriage,  and  seizure  of 
John  the  Baptist,  176.  Provinces 
comprised  in  his  tetrarchate,  193. 
His  position  with  regard  to  Jesus, 
194,  217.  Attempts  made  to  excite 
him  against  Jesus,  219.  Tricked 
into  consenting  to  the  murder  of 
John  the  Baptist,  234.  Discomfi- 
ture of  his  army,  235.  Jewish  as- 
cription of  the  cause  thereof,  ibid, 
note.  Growing  jealous  of  Jesus, 
241.  His  crafty  designs  regarding 
Him,  273.  His  practice  with  re- 
gard to  the  Sanhedrin,  325.  His 
refusal  to  tiy,  and  insulting  treat- 
ment of,  Jesus,  335,  336.  Intentions 
of  Aretas  against  him,  383.  His 
place  of  banishment,  ii.  147. 

Hekod  Agkippa,  accession  of,  i.  385. 
Ingratiates  himself  with  the  Jews 
and  persecutes  the  Christians,  385. 
His  death,  its  nature,  and  how  re- 
garded by  the  Christians,  387. — 
See  394,  397.     His  son,  see  Agrippa. 

Herod  Archelaus.  —  See  Arche- 
laus. 

Herod  the  Irenarch,  treatment  of 
Poh'carp  by,  ii.  140. 

Herod  Philip,  i.  176. 

Herodlvns,  objects  with  regard  to 
Jesus  of  the,  i.  299,  300.  Discom- 
fited, 300. 

Herodias,  wife  of  Herod  Philip,  her 
incestuous  marriage  with  her  hus- 
band's brother,  i.  176.  Her  ani- 
mosity to  John  the  Baptist,  and 
trick  by  which  she  obtained  his 
head,  234. 

Heron  the  philosopher,  iii.  119  note. 

Hesiod  and  }  Julian's    assertion    re- 

Herodotus  j  garding  the  wTitmgs 
of,  iii.  11. 

Heyne  on  Zosimus,  iii.  48  note.  On 
Symmachus,  90  note,  338  note.  On 
Orosius,  189  note. 

HiERAPOLis,  Pagan  cruelties  and  cere- 
monies under  Juhan  in,  iii.  14,  30. 

Hierarchical  power,  objects  and 
VOL.  III.  30 


results  of  the  establishment  cf,  iii. 
306,  307.  — See  Bishops;  Church; 
Clergy;  Episcopacy. 

HiEROCLES,  persecution  instigated  by, 
ii.  215. 

Hieroglyphics,  symbol  for  the  world 
in,  i.  81  note. 

HiERONYMus.  —  See  Jermne. 

HiEuopHANTS  massacre  of,  iii.  82 
note.  —  See  ii.  52,  02,  188,  215.  The 
Hierophant  of  Eleusis,  ii.  466. 

HiLARiANus  the  procurator,  and  Par- 
petua  the  martyr,  ii.  172.  174. 

HiLARius  of  Phrygia,  offence  charged 
against,  iii.  45. 

Hilary  of  Poictiers,  his  book  against 
Constantius,  ii.  437.  Its  style  and 
character,  437,  438,  notes.  i\\  exile, 
446.  Cause  of  Tnnitarianism  main- 
tained by  him,  iii.  106.  Not  a 
celibatist,  286.     His  writings,  356. 

Hippo,  Augustine  made  Bishop  of, 
iii.  192.     A  city  of  refuge,  194. 

Hippocrates'  notion  of  demoniacal 
possession,  i.  229  note. 

Hippodrome  of  Constantinople,  ii. 
336,  339.  Its  chariot  games  and 
factions,  340,  343. 

HippOLYTus,  Bishop  of  Porto,  the 
"  Kefuter  of  Heresies,"  Avork  rightly 
assigned  by  Bunsen  to,  ii.  48  note. 
Story  preserved  by  him,  54  nUe. 
On  the  doctrines  of  Basilides,  69 
note.  His  book  on  the  Ophites,  86, 
87,  notes.  —  See  83  note. 

HiRA,  the  cave  of  Mohammed's  re- 
treat, ii.  268. 

Historians,  apology  of  Polybius  for 
the  fables  of,  i.  45. 

History,  as  written  by  the  early 
Christian  historians,  iii.  365,  366. 

Hodgson,  Mr.,  reference  to  a  tract 
by,  ii.  39  note. 

Holidays,  Heathen  calendar  of,  iii. 
335  note. 

Holy  Ghost,  descent  upon  Jesus  of 
the,  i.  152.  Promised  as  the  Com 
forter,  315.  Its  descent  on  the  Day 
of  Pentecost,  364.  Interpretations 
of  the  latter  miracle,  ibid.  note. 
Poured  out  on  the  Gentiles,  393. 
"Received"  in  Ephesus,  458.  In 
the  system  of  Bardesanes,  ii.  78. 
In  Mani's  system,  265.  Controver- 
sies on  the  subject,  358-365. 

Holy  Land,  the  first  apostles  limited 
to  the,  i.  233.  Jesus  on  its  borders, 
245.  Effect  of  Jerome's  example 
on  pilgrimages  thither,  iii.  196, 197. 
Female  pilgruns,  234-236.  — See 
Palestine. 


466 


INDEX. 


Homer's  poetry  and  the  anthropo- 
moi-phism  of  the  Greeks,  i.  24. 
Fused  with  Plato  by  Julian,  ii.  456. 
A  Christian  Homer,  iii.  12,  359.  — 
See  ii.  459,  475;  iii.  11. 

HoMERiTEs,  country  of  the,  ii.  405. 

HoMoousios,  or  Hoaioousion  (the 
doctrine  of  Consubstantialism),  dis- 
putes concerning  the,  ii.  372,  373, 
417,  442.  Avoided  by  the  Arian 
Goths,  iii.  62  note. 

HoMOPHORUS,  the  Atlas  of  Mani's 
system,  ii.  264,  266  note,  271,  ibid, 
nute,  273.  Office  of  his  ally,  Splen- 
ditenens,  272  ?ioie. 

HoNOKius,  laws  of,  for  protecting 
the  people's  enjoyments,  iii.  97; 
for  the  abolition  of  Paganism,  98, 
99;  relative  to  the  clergy,  288,  289, 
notes;  divorce,  294;  gladiators,  349. 
Occasion  of  his  entire  prohibition 
of  gladiatorial  shows,  350.  Never 
more  than  a  child,  360  note. 

Hooker's  quotation  from  Jerome,  ii. 
25  note. 

Horace,  occasionally  superstitious, 
i.  50.  Touching  Jewish  syna- 
gogues, ii.  23  note.  A  characteris- 
tic of  his  poetry,  iii.  115. 

Hormouz,  reception  of  Mani  by,  ii. 
276. 

HoRUS  and  Sophia  in  the  Valentinian 
system,  ii.  74,  75. 

Hosius,  Bishop  of  Cordova,  ii.  367. 
His  disposition ;  mission  confided  to 
him,  368.  His  position  in  the  Coun- 
cil of  Nicsea,  369.  Constantine's 
inspirer  there,  371.  Espouses  the 
cause  of  Athanasius,  418,  421,  422. 
His  fall,  431.  His  death,  446.  —  See 
377. 

Housekeeping,  an  ancient  indispen- 
sable to,  iii.  387. 

Hug,  German  critic,  i.  113,  127,  340, 
notes. 

Human  mind,  imaginative  state  of 
the,  iii.  419. 

Human  sacrifices  under  the  Greeks 
and  Romans,  i.  34,  35,  notes. 

HuiNiANisM,  Ephesian  phasis  of,  ii. 
57. 

Humanity,  laws  tending  to,  ii.  397. 

Hume's  argument  against  a  pure 
theism  among  barbarians,  i.  19  note. 

Huns,  the,  iii.  64. 

Hussey,  Dr.,  on  the  Ignatian  Epis- 
tles, reference  to,  iii.  262  note. 

Hyde  on  the  Persian  religions,  ii.  39 
note. 

Hymettius,  charge  against,  and  prin- 
ciple involved  in  it,  iii.  42,  43. 


Hymns:  of  Ephrem  the  Syrian,  ii. 
78;  iii.  109.  Of  the  primitive 
churches,  iii.  407.  Gregory  of 
Nyssa's  definition,  407  n  de.  Hymns 
of  Arius,  408.  Of  the  Gnostics,  see 
Bardesanes;  Harmnnius. 

Hyrcanus  the  high-priest,  voice 
heard  from  heaven  by,  i.  97  ncie. 


I. 


Ialdabaoth,  prince  of  darkness  gen- 
eration of,  ii.  85. 

Iamblichus  on  the  Mysteries,  ii.  188. 
Fate  of  his  scholar,  Sopater,  384. 
His  writings,  iii.  6.  Why  held  in 
awe  by  Julian,  7.  Character  of  his 
metaphysics,  10.  Escapes  the  ven- 
geance of  Valens,  45. 

Iberians,  converter  of  the,  ii.  407. 

IcoNiUM,  Paul  and  Barnabas  driven 
from,  i.  402. 

Iconoclasts,  barbarizing  influences 
of  the,  iii.  377  note. 

Idacius,  a  persecutor  of  the  Priscil- 
lians,  iii.  173. 

Iddo  the  prophet,  loss  of  the  books 
of,  i.  70. 

Ideler's  explanation  of  the  lumi- 
nous phenomenon  which  led  the 
wise  men  to  Jerusalem,  i.  115  note. 

Idols,  address  to  the  emperor  for  the 
destruction  of,  iii.  14.  Olympus's 
appeal  for  their  preservation,  75. 
Ambrose's  denunciation  of  idolatry, 
91,  92.  —  See  Heathenism;  Pagan- 
ism. 

Ignatius,  Bishop  of  Antioch,  theory 
of  episcopal  government  of,  ii.  29 
note.  Period  of  his  martyrdom, 
95  note.  Tried  before  Trajan,  104. 
Inference  from  his  epistles  as  to  the 
extent  of  the  persecution,  105,  106 
note.  Eager  for  martyrdom,  106. 
His  claim  of  apostolic  authority 
for  the  bishops,  iii.  261.  Object  of 
the  composition  of  his  Acts,  329 
note. 

Illiberis  or  Elvira,  Council  of,  iii. 
82,  255,  258,  272,  287,  293,  337, 
notes,  383. 

Illyrian  shore  of  the  Adriatic,  Dio- 
cletian's palace  "on  the,  ii.  211. 
226. 

Images  of  Christ,  and  of  celebrated 
personages  as  objects  of  worship, 
source  of  the  earliest,  iii.  394.  395. 

Immolation,  Scythian  custom  of, 
ii.  261.  Prohibited  by  Theodosius 
iii.  66. 


INDEX. 


467 


Immortality  of  the  soul,  i.  44  note. 
Disbelief  on  the  subject  among  Pa- 
gan authors,  48.  Shape  taken  by 
the  doctrine  under  Christianity,  53, 
54.  Great  event  forming  its  ground- 
work as  a  Christian  doctrine,  351. 
Views  of  German  writers  on  the  sub- 
ject, 351,  352,  notes.  Its  abiding  in- 
fluence over  communities  and  indi- 
viduals, 354.  Julian's  view  of  the 
doctrine,  ii.  470. 

Imperial  history  from  the  promulga- 
tion of  Christianity  to  Constantine's 
accession,  natural  divisions  of,  ii.  4. 

Incaknation,  Oriental  and  Christian 
doctrines  of  the,  i.  101,  102. 

India,  great  primal  spirit  of  the 
theology  of,  i.  79  note.  Univer- 
sality of  ablutions,  144.  Vague 
geographical  notions  of  the  regions 
so  called,  ii.  17,  405.  Work  on  the 
subject  of  its  Christian  communities, 
recommended,  35  nxjte.  Visited  by 
Man i,  267.  —  See  Emanation;  On- 
entali&m. 

Indians,  most  acceptable  act  of  devo- 
tion among  the,  i.  459  note. 


Infancy,  Gospel  of  the,  object  of  its 
.  ,  Its 

iii.  364. 


composition,  i.  136  note. 


Infants,  Constantine's  laws  for  pro- 
tection of,  ii.  3y7,  398.  Doom  of 
child-stealers,  398.  When  disin- 
herited, 399.  When  bastardized, 
401  note. 

Innocents,  prelude  to  the  slaughter 
of  the,  i.  110.  Question  as  to  num- 
ber slain,  116  note. 

Intestates'  property,  when  to  go  to 
the  Church,  iii.  280  note. 

Ikan,  in  the  Magian  system,  principle 
personified  by,  ii.  256. 

Iren.eus,  rabbinical  notion  given  as 
a  propliecy  of  our  Loi-d  by,  i.  431 
note.  His  assertion  relative  to  St. 
Paul,  470.  Fullest  early  authority 
on  Simon  Magus,  ii.  51  note.  His 
view^  of  the  iSasilidean  theory',  68 
n»te.  Controversy  entered  into  b}' 
him,  ii.  116.  On  the  primacy  of 
Peter,  iii.  269  note.  His  enthusiasm 
in  regard  to  *he  Virgin,  429  nute.  — 
See  i.  475  note;  ii.  65  note  ;  iii.  312, 
394  notes. 

Isaiah,  Messianic  prophecies  of,  i.  65, 
87,  97,  146  note,  185,  220,  236  note. 
His  predictions  and  the  Sibylline 
verses,  ii.  122.  —  See  Ascensio  Isaite. 

IscHYRAS,  offence  charged  on  Maca- 
rius  by,  ii.  381. 

Isidore,  persecution  of,  iii.  108. 


Isis  and  Serapis,  i.  14  note,  48. 
Worship  of  Isis  and  Osiris,  20,  21. 
Vestiges  of  Isiac  worship  in  Eng- 
land, 49  note.  Temples  of  Isis,  ii. 
94,  181.  A  poetic  lament  for  the 
goddess,  124,  ibid.  note.  An  impe- 
rial votary  to  the  Isiac  mysteries, 
154.  —  See  ii.  99.     See  Serapis. 

ISLAMISM,  ii.  35. 

IsMAEL,  high-priest,  parentage  of,  i. 
413. 

IsocKATES  and  other  Greek  writers, 
Julian's  notion  of,  iii.  11. 

Israel's  race  and  the  Shiloh,  i.  63. 

Israelites,  place  of  the  Ark  of  the, 
i.  27.  —  See  Jews. 

Isthmian  Games,  Corinth,  i.  473. 

Italy,  ancient  rural  gods  of,  i.  26. 
Festivals  founded  on  its  old  legends, 
28.  Sibylline  prophecy  of  its  deso- 
lation, ii.  127.  Ravages  of  pesti- 
lence, 136.  Commanded  to  worship 
the  sun,  178.  Degraded  into  a 
province,  245.  Its  gods  chiefly 
local,  282.  Its  representatives  at 
the  Council  of  Nicgea,  369.  Preva- 
lence of  child-desertion  and  infanti- 
cide, 397.  Its  reception  of  Arianism, 
iii.  61.  Divination  and  witchcraft 
still  in  existence,  103.  —  See  ii.  206, 
281,  308,  317. 

Ithacius,  a  persecutor  of  the  Priscil- 
lians,  iii.  173. 


J. 


Jablonski,  character  of  an  essay  on 
Christmas  Day  by,  i.  112  note.  On 
our  Lord's  likeness,  iii.  393  note, 
394  note.  —  See  i.  444  note. 

Jacob,  site  and  well  consecrated  to, 
1,  178.     In  Marcion's  Gospel,  ii.  82. 

Jairus's  daughter,  raising  of,  i.  233. 

James,  difiiculty  regarding  the  apos- 
tles bearing  the  name  of,  i.  222. 

James  "the  brother  of  the  Lord," 
subsequently  called  the  Just,  i.  ibid. 
Office  held  "by  him,  397,  403  note, 
418.  Compromise  effected  by  his 
influence,  404.  His  martyrdom  and 
the  mode  of  it,  418-420.  —  See  ii. 
56  note. 

James  the  son  of  Cleophas,  1.  222. 

James  and  John,  the  sons  of  Zebe- 
dee,  i.  188.  Singular  names  given 
to  them,  221.  Martyrdom  of  James, 
385,  386  note.  —  See  John  the  Evan- 
gelist. 

Jansenius,  a  remoulder  of  the  Au- 
gustinian  theology,  iii.  176. 


468 


INDEX. 


Jao,  the  mystic  name,  ii.  76. 

Jehovah,  of  Jewish  worship,  i.  30, 
71 ;  ii.  63,  64.  —  See  Deity ;  God. 

Jekemiah,  expected  resurrection  of,  i 
and  its  accompaniments,  i.  158,  249. 

Jericho,  recognition  of  the  Messiah  | 
by  the  blind  men  at,  i.  279. 

Jerome,  St.  {Hieronymus),  Buddhist  ! 
tradition  quoted  by,  i.  103  note.    On  , 
St.  John's  long  life,  221  jzo^e.    On  the 
origm  of  episcopacy,  ii.  25  note.   His  , 
works  an  evidence  of  the   ascetic 
enthusiasm    of   his    times,   iii.   42.  . 
His  taunt  against  Basil,  50.    His 
feelings  regarding  Prsetextatus  the  i 
Pagan,  85.     Influences  seen  in  his 
writings,   106.      His   testimony   to  ' 
Pelagius,    181    note.       Two    great  ; 
services  rendered  by  him  to  Chris-  ' 
tianity,  195,  196.     Influence  of  his  | 
example  on  pilgrimages,  196,  197.  ■ 
Desire  for  monasticism  inspired  hy  \ 
him,  198,  199.    Value  of  his  Latin  : 
version  of  the  Scriptures,  and  his  t 
qualifications   for   same,    195,    196,  j 
198,  241.     His  contemptuous  refer- 
ence to  marriage,  202  note.     Makes  i 
Paul  the  first  hermit,  206  note.     On  ! 
the  retreat  ofSt.  Anthony,  207.    His  i 
self-torture  and  endurances  in  the  ' 
desert,  209.     On  the  use  of  the  cili-  | 
cium,   213   note.      His   career  and  { 
trials,  230.     Why  obnoxious  to  the  j 
Roman  clergy,  231,  237.     His  rela-  i 
tionship  towards  females,  234,  235.  I 
His  portraiture  of  two  of  them,  234 
note.     His  Solomon's  Song  allusion  ' 
to  the  Saviour,  235  note.    His  cele-  j 
bration   of   Paula's    charities    and  ' 
Christian    heroism,    236,    236-237  I 
note.      His   thirst   for  controversy, 
237.     His  disputes  with  Augustine  I 
and  Rufinus,  237.     His  invectives 
against  Jovinian   and  Vigilantius,  ' 
238-241.     On  clergy  costume,  276  i 
note.     Vices   charged  and  prohibi- 
tions laid  by  him  upon  the  clergy,  : 
279,  284  720ie,  285,287,287  7?o<e.   His  ' 
story  of  the  husband  of  twenty  wives  i 
and  the  wife  of  twenty-two  hus- 
bands, 295  note.     On  the  desertion 
of  the  Heathen  temples,  311.     On 
church  architecture,  315  note.   Char- 
acter of  his  Latin,  357.    His  noctur-  , 
nal  flagellation,  357  note.    Feature 
of  interest  in  his  letters,  370  note. 
His   denunciation   of  unauthorized 
interpretations    of    Scripture,    372 
note.     On  the  worship  of  the  cross, 
386,  386-387  note.     On  the  portrai- 
ture of  the  Saviour,  the  Virgin,  and 


the  saints,  392,  398,  400.  An  as- 
serter  of  the  perpetual  virginity  of 
Mary,  430  note.  —  See  i.  373  note  ; 
iii.  214  note,  230  note,  242  note,  244, 
2S4  note. 

tjERUSALEM,  city  of,  triumphal  entry 
of  Jesus  into,  i.  291-293.  His  pre- 
diction of  its  fall,  and  moral  connec- 
tion between  same  and  his  murder, 
307,  811.  Its  Apostolic  Council, 
and  compromise  agreed  to  thereat. 
403,  404.  Probable  eff"ect  of  its  fal 
on  Christianity,  422.  New  city  on 
its  site,  and  interdiction  thereof  to 
the  Jews,  433-435.  — See  123;  ii. 
349,  350,  352,  377,  378.  See  also 
Jews;  Judcea 

Jerusalem,  Temple  of,  transformed 
into  a  mart,  i.  165,  166.  Expulsion 
of  the  traders  by  Jesus,  167,  296. 
Historical  events  regarded  as  divine 
retribution  for  its  profanation,  170. 
Lavish  expenditure  on  its  restora- 
tion, 170.  Its  desecration  by  the" 
Samaritans,  177.  Slaughter  of  the 
Galileans,  242,  243,  280.  Its  de- 
struction predicted  by  Jesus,  304. 
The  rending  of  its  veil  at  the  Cruci- 
fixion, 347.  Its  tribute,  438.  Di- 
version of  same  by  Vespasian,  ii. 
12.  Consequences  of  its  destruc- 
tion, ii.  10;  iii.  25.  No  sanctity 
beyond  its  bounds  claimed  by  the 
Levites,  ii.  22.  Julian's  determina- 
tion to  rebuild  it,  iii.  25,  26.  Pre- 
vention of  the  Avork  by  assumed 
preternatural  agency,  26,  27.  —  See 
i.  463,  464,  471;  ii.  345. 

Jesuits  in  China,  subject  of  surprise 
to,  i.  103  note. 

Jesus  Christ,  era  announced  by  the 
appearance  of,  i.  16.  His  charac- 
terization of  the  Deity,  30.  Him- 
self and  his  age,  57,  58.  Paul's  lan- 
guage regarding  Hie  58.  Account 
of  his  life  necessary  :o  a  history  of 
Christianity,  59.  Difficulties  in  the 
way;  scope  of  his  life  in  this  work, 
60.  —  See  Messiah.  His  proclama- 
tion of  Himself  as  the  "  Light  of  the 
world,"  76, 102,  Significant  angelic 
simile  used  by  Him,  77.  God's  in- 
visibility declared  bv  Him,  79. 
State  of  Juda>a  at  his  birth,  91,  92. 
Probable  feelings  of  the  people  on 
the  occurrence  of  that  event,  93. 
Angelic  annunciation  thereof,  100. 
Oriental  parallel  to  incidents  in  his 
life,  103  note.  His  birth  and  birth- 
place, 111.  Harmony  of  his  mis- 
sion with  the  mode  of  its  first  reve- 


INDEX. 


469 


lation,  ibid.    Disputes  as  to  the  j^ear 
and  season  of  his  birth,  112  note. 
His  presentation  in  the  Temple,  113. 
Simeon's  benediction  on  and  pre- 
diction regarding  Him,  114.     Rab- 
binical accusation  against  Him,  116 
note.     Jewish  fiction  as  to  his  pa- 
rentage, and  Origen's  answer  there- 
to, il/id.  note. 
Commencement  of  his  public  life,  138. 
Apocrj'phal  Gospel  of  his  Infancy, 
136  note.     Surprise  of  the  rabbis  at 
his  3-outhful  questionings,  137.    Un- 
favorable concomitants  of  his  entrj- 
on  his  public  career,  142.    John  the 
Baptist's  avowal   of  inferiority  to 
Him,  151,  152.     His  baptism,   152. 
Pointed   out  by  John   as   the  Ex- 
pected One,  15'3.     His   temptation 
and  the   various   theories    thereof, 
153-157.     His  first  disciples;  com- 
mencement of  his  career,  160,  161. 
His     first    miracle;     anti-sectarian 
principle  enunciated  in  it,  161-163. 
His  first  appearance  and  reception 
at  Jerusalem,  164,  165.    His  expul- 
sion of  the  traders  from  the  Temple, 
and    expectations    raised    thereby, 
167,  168.     Misapprehension  by  the 
Jews   of  his   speech   typifying  his 
own  death  and  resurrection  as  the 
destruction  and  restoration  of  the 
Temple,  169,  209,   210.     Pharisaic 
jealous}'  of  Him,  171,  176.     His  in- 
terview  with    and    declaration    to 
Nicodemus,  171,  172.     Caution  ob- 
served by  Him  in  his  first  visit  to 
Jerusalem,     174.       His     departure 
thence,  175.     His  apprehensions  of 
the  Pharisees,  and  passage  through 
Samaria,  176,  177.    Kftect  produced 
by  his  example  and  precepts,  177, 
178.    His  interview  with  the  woman 
of  Samaria,  179,  180.     Ready  ac- 
knowledgment  of  his  Messiahship 
by  the  Samaritans,  1S3.     His  pub- 
lic assumption  of  his  divine  office 
and  second  miracle,  ibid.    Probable 
caure  of  his  inhospitable  reception 
by  the  Nazarenes,   lb4.      Clirono- 
log->aI  point  connected  with  his  ad- 
dress to  them  in  their  synagogue, 
185  note.     Substance  of  same,  and 
effect    produced    by   it,   185,    186. 
Outrage  committed  by  them  upon 
Him,  186.     Retires  to  Capernaum; 
its  advantages  as  an  abiding  place, 
187.    His  choice  of  apostles ;  Peter's 
awe  of  Him,  187.     His  reception  in 
the    Capernaum    synagogue,    188. 
Radical    differences    between    his 


teachings  and  the  expoundings  of 
the  rabbis,  and  animosity  of  the  lat- 
ter towards  Him,  189, 190.  Miracles 
wrought  by  Him  at  Capernaum, 
192.  Not  regarded  with  hostility 
by  Herod  Antipas,  194,  217.  Passes 
unmolested  through  Galilee,  195. 
Unique  character  of  his  ministra- 
tions as  compared  with  those  of 
other  teachers,  195,  196.  His  open- 
air  preachings  and  illustrative  use 
of  surrounding  objects,  196-198. 
His  sermon  on  the  Mount ;  chrono- 
logical difficulties  in  relation  to  it, 
198,  and  note  When  same  was  de- 
livered according  to  St.  Luke,  223. 
Threefold  view  of  the  moral  sys 
tern  propounded  by  Him,  199-204. 
His  conduct  with"  regard  to  his 
countrymen,  205.  Injunction  laid 
by  Him  on  the  healed  leper,  ibid 
Circumstances  attending  his  second 
miracle,  2u5,  206.  His  intercourse 
with  the  publicans,  206,  207.  His 
position  at  the  close  of  the  first  year 
of  his  public  life,  208,  209. 
Second  year  of  his  public  life.  -• 
Change  of  popular  sentiment  re- 
garding Him,  209,  210.  Charge 
against  Him  for  healing  on  the  sab- 
bath, 213.  His  defence;  second 
charge  against  Him  grounded  there- 
on, 214,  215.  His  answer  thei'eto: 
effect  upon  the  Sanhedrin  of  his 
assertion  of  his  Messiahship,  215, 
216.  Retires  again  into  Galilee; 
hostility  of  the  Pharisees  against 
Him,  217.  His  declaration  of  his 
superiority  to  the  sabbath,  218. 
Pharisaic  denunciation  of  his  con- 
tinued disregard  of  that  day,  219. 
Secludes  Himself  fi-om  public  view, 
ibid.  Organizes  his  apostles ;  their 
names  and  social  position,  220-223. 
Heals  the  centurion's  servant,  223. 
Effect  of  his  raising  the  widow's 
son,  224,  225.  Question  as,  to  the 
design  of  the  message  sent  to  Him 
by  John  the  Baptist  from  prison, 

225,  226.  Signs  appealed  to  by 
Him  as  evidence  of  the  commence- 
ment   of   the   Messiah's   kingdom, 

226,  227.  Contrast  between  Him- 
self and  John,  227.  His  application 
of  the  incident  of  his  anointment  by 
a  woman  of  ill  life,  228.  Charged 
with  working  by  evil  spii'its;  his 
disposal  thereof,  228,  229.  .^ign  of 
Messiahship  demanded  of  Him  by 
the  Pharisees,  230.  Declares  thp 
superiority  of  his  spiritual  ties  to 


470 


INDEX. 


his  family  relationships,  231.  Char- 
acter and  object  of  his  parables, 
231,  232.  Question  of  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  possessed  swine,  232. 
His  raising  of  the  daughter  of  Jai- 
rus,  and  other  miracles  and  injunc- 
tions regarding  them,  233.  Sends 
out  his  apostles;  effect  of  this  step 
upon  his  position  in  public  regard, 
233.  His  miracle  of  feeding  the 
multitude,  and  dangerous  enthusi- 
asm excited  by  it,  235,  236.  His 
miraculous  passage  over  the  lake, 
237.  Disappointed  hopes  and  de- 
sertion of  the  multitude,  238.  Con- 
tinued adherence  of  the  apostles; 
his  prophecy  of  a  traitor  among 
them,  239.  "Fluctuations  of  feeling 
regarding  Him,  and  Strauss's  infer- 
ence therefrom,  ibid.  note.  His  po- 
sition at  the  close  of  the  second 
year  of  his  public  life,  239,  240. 
Third  yea?'  of  his  public  life.  —  Prob- 
able cause* of  his  absence  from  the 
third  Passover;  increased  hostility 
of  the  Jews,  24 1 .  Fatal  result  which 
his  presence  might  have  entailed, 
243.  His  places  of  concealment, 
243,  244.  Fears  excited  at  this 
time  by  his  movements,  244,  245. 
Heals  the  daughter  of  the  t'anaan- 
itish  woman;  prejudices  of  his  apos- 
tles on  the  occasion,  245,  246. 
Further  miracles  and  continued  in- 
junctions of  secresy  in  connection 
"therewith,  247.  Effect  upon  his 
apostles  of  his  apparently  contra- 
dictory conduct,  248,  His  ti-ans- 
figuration  and  phenomena  accom- 
panying it,  250,  251.  Incident  of 
his  jpayment  of  the  tribute  money, 
252.  Occasion  of  his  commenda- 
tion of  a  child  to  the  imitation  of 
his  apostles,  253.  His  sudden  ap- 
pearance at  the  Feast  of  Taberna- 
cles, and  teachings  and  declarations 
there,  254,  256.  Perplexities  of  the 
Sanhedrin,  255-257.  His  discom- 
fiture of  his  opponents  in  the  case 
of  the  woman  taken  in  adulteiy, 
257,  258.  Fury  excited  by  his  ref- 
erences to  Abraham  and  declaration 
of  his  own  pre-existence,  259,  260. 
Heals  the  bhnd  man  on  the  sab- 
hath,  261.  Illegality  of  the  act, 
263  note.  Abortive  proceedings  of 
the  Sanhedrin  thereon,  264-266. 
His  rejection  by  the  Samaritans, 
and  reply  to  the  demand  of  his  dis- 
ciples for  summary  vengeance  on 
them,   268.     His   chosen  seventy, 


and  their  duties,  269.  At  the  Feast 
of  the  Dedication;  interrogatories 
put  to  Him  by  the  Jews,  270,  271. 
Again  charged  with  blasphemy; 
renewed  attempt  upon  his  lite,  272. 
Threatened  with  the  fate  of  John 
the  Baptist;  designs  of  Herod  and 
the  Pharisees,  273.  His  raising  of 
Lazarus,  and  its  attendant  circum- 
stances, 274,  275.  Final  determi- 
nation of  the  Sanhedrin  concerning 
Him,  276. 
His  last  Passover.  —  On  his  way  to 
Jerusalem ;  recognized  by  two  blind 
men  whom  He  heals,  279.  Zacche- 
us's  practical  testimony  to  his  be- 
lief in  his  divinity,  ibid.  State  of 
feeling  at  this  period;  anticipated 
Messianic  accompaniments  dis- 
claimed by  Him,  279,  280.  Position 
towards  Him  of  the  various  sects, 
281-283.  Lesson  inculcated  by  his 
recognition  of  the  Samaritans,  283, 
284.  Obstacles  to  the  appreciation 
by  his  countrymen  of  the  unworld- 
liness  and  comprehensiveness  of  his 
kingdom,  284,  2b5.  How  regarded 
by  the  Essenes,  286.  Motives  im- 
pelling the  hostility  of  the  rulers 
towards  Him,  287,'  288.  His  de- 
meanor anticipatory  t)f  his  approach- 
ing end,  289.  Abiding  with  Simon, 
late  the  leper,  290.  His  anoint- 
ment by  Mary;  Judas's  economic 
protest,'^290,  291.  His  enthusiastic 
reception  at  Jerusalem  and  in  the 
Temple,  and  disposal  of  the  remon- 
strances of  the  Pharisees  and  rulers, 
292,  293.  His  discourse  to  the 
Greek  proselytes,  294.  Testimony 
from  the  heavens;  effect  of  his 
mysterious  allusions,  295.  Truth 
symbolized  by  his  curse  upon  the 
barren  tig-tree,  295-297.  Again 
expels  the  desecrators  of  the  Tem- 
ple, and  confounds  his  relentless  in- 
terrogators, 296,  297.  Union  of 
factions  for  his  destmction,  and  ef- 
forts to  entrap  self-condemnatorv 
replies  from  Him,  299,  300.  His 
confutation  of  the  subtleties  of  the 
Sadducees,  301,  302.  His  conver- 
sion of  the  questioning  scribe,  302. 
His  renewed  condemnation  of  the 
Pharisees,  303,  304.  Approaching 
crisis  in  his  fate,  304.  His  predic- 
tion of  the  destruction  of  the  Tem- 
ple, ibid.  And  of  the  future  desola- 
tion of  Jerusalem,  307,  311.  Moral 
connection  between  his  death  and 
the  d'>om    of  the  city,  307,  308 


INDEX. 


471 


Immediate  cause  of  his  rejection  by 
the  Jews,  30^-3 10.  Evidence  of  his 
foreknowledge  afforded  b}"  his  pre- 
diction of  the  fiall  of  Jerusalem,  311. 
Difficulties  in  the  way  of  his  seizure 
by  the  rulers,  311,  312.  Motives 
of  Judas  to  his  betrayal,  312,  313. 
The  Last  Supper  and  incidents  con- 
nected with  it,  315,  316.  His  agony 
in  the  garden  of  Gethsemane,  317. 
His  rebuke  to  his  betrayer  and  re- 
proof to  i'eter,  31  y.  Taken  pris- 
oner; dispersal  of  his  followers,  3ly. 
Preliminary  proceedings  against 
Him,  3-iO.  His  arraignment  before 
the  Sanhedrin,  321.  Declares  Him- 
self the  iMessiah,  322.  Result  of 
his  trial;  insults  of  the  soldierv, 
322,  323.  Carried  bef-re  Pilate, 
328.  Result  of  his  examination 
before  Pilate,  and  clamor  of  the 
Sanhedrin  thereat,  334,  335.  Sent 
betore  Herod;  insulting  conduct  of 
the  latter  towards  Him,  335,  33(j. 
Pilate'f  further  etibrts  with  the  Jews 
in  his  behalf;  the  crown  of  thorns. 
337-331).  His  condemnation  by 
Pilate,  341.  Led  forth  to  death; 
outrages  of  the  soldiers  on  Him, 
ibid. 

Circumstance^  attendant  on  his  cruci- 
Jixiun.  —  Usages  observed,  342-344. 
The  two  malelactors,  344.  Conduct 
of  the  spectators,  ibid.  His  words 
of  comtbrt  to  the  weepers  and 
prayer  for  his  murderers,  345,  346. 
The  preternatural  darkness;  his 
agony  and  death,  346,  347.  The 
rending  of  the  veil  of  the  Temple 
and  opening  of  the  sepulchres,  347, 
348.  Burial  of  his  body  and  ap- 
parent extinction  of  his  religion, 
34^-350  Doctrine  assumed  by 
Him  as  the  basis  of  his  own  doc- 
trines, 351  note.  Legend  as  to  his 
substitute  on  the  cross,  ii.  72. 

The  Rvsun  ection.  —  Precautious  of 
the  Sanhedrin  to  prevent  the  re- 
moval of  his  remains,  355.  Emo- 
tions of  the  women  on  finding  his 
sepulchre  empty,  and  vision  seen 
by  them,  357,  35^8.  His  appearance 
to  Mary  Magdalene,  and  subse- 
quently to  the  other  women  and  to 
the  apostles,  358,  359.  His  ascen- 
sion, 362.  Its  necessity  towards 
periecting  the  divine  scheme, 
'ibid.  nuie.  His  glorious  exaltation 
preached  by  the  apostles,  366-368. 
Li-ht  in  which  his  death  and  resur- 
rection   were    regarded    by  many 


Jewish  believers,  429.  Magic  power 
ascribed  to  his  name,  459.  His  re- 
ligion welcomed  by  cruel  ingenui- 
ties, 470. 

Doubtful  story  of  the  search  for  his 
kindred,  ii.  13,  14.  Estimate  formed 
of  Him  by  Simon  Magus,  49,  55 
note.  His  position  and  attributes  in 
the  various  Gnostic  and  cognate  sys- 
tems, 56,  58,  60,  61,  63-65,  67,  75, 
75,  ibid,  note,  76-79,  82,  84,  85,  86, 
notes,  165,  264,  265,  271,  272,  274, 
313,  315,  360.  His  throne  in  the 
Sibylline  WTitings,  121.  Kefu^al  of 
Polycarp  to  blaspheme  Him,  140. 
Associated  in  worship  with  the 
Queen  of  Heaven,  163  note.  Alex- 
ander Severus's  way  of  showing 
homage  to  Him,  181,  182.  His  al- 
leged appearance  in  Constanline's 
vision,  2fy-29l.  How  figured  as  an 
image  by  Constantine,  341.  Hea- 
then temple  on  the  site  of  his  sepul- 
chre, 350,  ibid.  note.  Discovery  of 
his  cross,  see  Cross ;  Crucifix.  Con- 
troversies relative  to  his  identity  in 
substance  with  the  Father,  see  Ho- 
moousios.  Origen's  notion  of  the 
finiteness  of  his  reign,  iii.  108.  His 
personal  appearance;  language  of 
the  Fathers  thereon,  391-3^3.  Stat- 
ues, images,  and  paintings,  394-397. 
—  See  ii.  11,  96,  97,  111  note,  131, 
167,  170,  215,  289,  351.  _  See  also 
Christianity;  Jews;  Trinitarianism. 

Jesus  Patibilis,  the  imprisoned 
light,  ii.  271. 

Jew8,  principle  of  Antiochus  Epi- 
phanes's  persecution  of  the,  i.  12 
note.  Idea  symbolized  by  their 
Shechiuah,  29.  Their  earlier  con- 
ception of  the  Deity,  30.  Cessation 
of  their  belief  in  his  symbolic  pres- 
ence, 31.  Pompey'sw^  nder  at,  and 
Tacitus's  description  of,  their  reli- 
gious sj-stem,  32.  Forbidden  initia- 
tion into  the  Mystei'ies,  40  note. 
Footing  gained  by  their  theism 
among  the  Romans,  48.  Their  no- 
tions connected  Avith  the  anticipated 
coming  of  the  Messiah,  63,  64,  156, 
295,  36u.  —  See  Messiah.  Results 
on  their  religion  of  their  mixture 
with  other  races,  66.  Their  early 
adoption  of  Greek  manners,  67  wite. 
Alleged  contempt  of  the  Greeks  and. 
Romans  for  them,  ibid,  note  3. 
Their  settlement  in  Babylonia, 
royal  proselytes  there,  and  inriuence 
over  the  religion  of  its  people,  67- 
70,  114.     Their  Cabala  and  its  ori- 


472 


INDEX. 


ofin,  70.  Debasing  influence  of  the 
Syrian  religions,  ibid.  Their  no- 
tions as  to  communications  with  the 
Deitv,  80.  Question  of  their  knowl- 
edge of  a  future  state,  81-83.  Their 
belief  in  preternatural  interpositions, 
and  its  influence  over  them,  93,  94. 
Solemnities  observed  by  their  priest- 
hood in  the  Holy  of  Huhes,  95, 
Birth  of  the  Messiah  from  a  virgin 
not  a  notion  originating  with  them, 
103  note.  Period  of  initiation  of 
their  sons  into  their  religious  cere- 
monies, 136.  Law  of  parent  and 
child  among  them,  138.  Their 
struggle  against  Roman  tyranny, 
148  note.  A  P'rench  picture  of  their 
SA'stem,  149  note.  Hostilities  be- 
tween them  and  the  Samaritans  ; 
outrages  of  the  latter  on  them,  177. 
Their  notions  of  temporal  prosperity 
or  adversity  as  indicating  divine 
favor  or  anger,  199,  '^00,  262,  263. 
Their  treatment  of  lepers,  205.  Un- 
popularity of  publicans  among 
them,  206,  207.  Their  intense  rev- 
erence for  the  sabbath,  and  in- 
stances thereof,  210,  211.  Bitter 
feeling  roused  in  them  by  Jesus's 
anti- Sabbatarianism,  215.  Their 
determination  to  put  Him  to  death, 
241.  Occasion  of  their  attempts  to 
stone  Him,  261.  Lesson  taught 
them  by  the  parable  of  the  good 
Samaritan,  284.  Obstacles  to  their 
recognition  of  Jesus  as  the  Messiah, 
284,  285.  Policy  firced  on  their 
i-ulers  regarding  Him,  2b7-289,  328. 
View  taken  of  their  character  and 
institutions  by  their  Pvoman  masters, 
329,  330.  Their  conduct  towards 
Jesus  antecedent  to,  and  during  his 
trial  and  criicilixion,  330,  331. — 
See  Jesus.  Their  disposal  of  exe- 
cuted criminals,  34b  note.  Diver- 
sity <:f  languages  among  them  in 
the  Kom:in  provinces,  365.  Perse- 
cuted under  Caligula,  384,  385. 
Their  notion  of  the  tlrst  Christian 
Church,  403.  Numbers  of  their  per- 
suasion at  Thessalomca,  407  7iote. 
Period  of  the  expiration  of  their 
hope  of  the  Messiah,  422.  Effect 
of  the  fall  of  Jerusalem  upon  most 
of  their  race,  422,  423.  Their  at- 
tachment to  the  Lnw,  424,  425. 
Hostility  between  tliein  and  the 
Christians,  and  interdict  put  upon 
them  by  the  Romans,  431-435. 
Usages  among  them  harmonizing 
with  the  spirit  of  Christianity,  438. 


Eesult  of  their  accusation  of  the 
Christians  at  Corinth,  455,  456. 
Imperial  edict  in  favor  of  their  race 
at  Ephesus,  457.  Practices  and 
overthrow  of  the  pretensions  of  their 
exorcists,  459,  460.  Act  deemed 
most  inexpiable  by  them,  459  note. 
Ephesian  anti-Christian  insurrec- 
tion in  which  they  were  implicated, 
462.  Their  disclaimer  and  hatred 
of  Christianity,  467,  472.  Their 
alleged  hatred  of  the  human  race, 
469.  Their  possible  escape  from 
proscription  under  Nero,  470  note. 
Claudius's  dealing  with  them  in 
Rome,  ii.  8.  Effects  of  their  subju- 
gation, 10,  13.  Their  last  rally  for 
independence,  15.  Their  bond  of 
union  wherever  settled,  21.  Diflfei^ 
ence  between  their  synagogues  and 
Christian  churches,  22,  23.  Their 
later  doctrine  of  angels  and  devils, 
53.  Not  averse  to  popular  amuse- 
ments, 99.  As  captives  forced  to 
become  gladiators,  100.  Alexan- 
drian Jews  at  the  theatres,  ibid. 
Their  numbers  in  Babylon,  and  in- 
surrection under  Hadrian,  102. 
Their  rebellion  under  Trajan,  and 
its  effects  upon  the  Christians,  102- 
104.  Alexandrian  versification  of 
their  prophecies,  122.  Their  share 
in  Polycarp's  martyrdom,  141. 
Their  condition  under'Severus  and 
Alexander  Severus,  159,  183.  Un- 
der Persian  rule,  258.  Their  suburb 
in  Rome,  298.  Taken  into  favor  by 
Julian,  iii.  24-26.  Interested  in 
Chrysostom's  cause,  148  note.  Syn- 
agogue at  Callinicum  burned  by 
the  Christians,  168.  Prohibitions 
put  upon  the  Christians  in  Spain 
with  regard  to  them,  272  iiote.  — 
See  Alexandrian  School  of  Jews; 
Jerusalem,  City  of;  Jerusalem^ 
Temple  of;  Jesus;  Judceti;  Law; 
Mesopotamia ;  Pharisees ;  Sanhe-- 
drill  ;  Sacklucees. 

Joanna,  wife  of  Chuza,  Herod's  stew- 
ard, at  Christ's  sepulchre,  i.  356. 

Joannes  Damascknus,  statements 
on  the  authority  of,  iii.  400  note. 

JoANNiT.E,  followers  of  Chrysostom, 
laws  against  the,  iii.  150  note. 

Job,  attributes  of  Satan  in  the  book 
of,  i.  7b. 

John  the  Baptist  declares  God's  in- 
visibilit3\  i.  79.  Phenomena  con- 
nected with  his  birth,  94-98.  Ex- 
citement consequent  on  that  event, 
106.    Declaration  of  his  mission, 


INDEX. 


473 


107.    His  appearance  as  a  public  ! 
teacher,  142.   Removes  to  the  banks  I 
of  tlie  Jordan,  143.     Asceticism  of 
his  habits;   his  costume  and  food,  | 
143,  144.     Interest  excited   by  his  i 
preaching,    145.     Intensity    of   liis  ' 
denunciations  and  abjurations,  146,  I 
147.     Proclaims  the  coming  of  the  I 
Messiah,    147,    148,   284.     Feelings  I 
aroused  by  his  mysterious  language,  • 
149.     His   pretensions  tested   by  a  | 
deputation  of  the  priesthood,  150,  ! 
158.     Question  as  to  any  early  inti- 
macy between  himself' and  Jesus, 
151.      Avows    his     inferiority     to 
Jesus,  and  renders  homage  to  him, 
151,  152.   175.     Talmudic   illustra- 
tion of  his  avowal,  151  note.     His 
baptism   of   Jesus   and    announce- 
ment of  his  mission,  152,  153,  159, 
160.     His    notice    of   the    reserve 
maintained    by    Jesus,    174.      Re- 
moves to  a  new  station ;  his  parti- 
sans  jealous   of  Jesus,   175.     His 
career    drawing    to   a   close,    ibid. 
Why  persecuted  by  Herod  Antipas, 
176  and  note.     Grotius's  notion  on 
this   subject,  194   note.     His   testi- 
mony cited  by  Jesus,  215.    Message 
sent   by  him  from    his    prison   to 
Jesus,    and    difficulties    connected 
therewith,  225,  220.     Contrast  be- 
tween himself  and  Jesus,  227.     His 
murder,  234.     Where   perpetrated, 
ibid.   note.     Popular  rumor  of  his 
restoration  to  life  in  the  person  of 
Jesus,  235,  249.  — See  298,  .335,  458. 

John,  St.,  the  evangelist  and  apos- 
tle, peculiarity  of  the  Gospel  of, 
i.  163  note.  Inapplicability  of  the 
appellation  Boanerges  to  him,  221. 
Tradition  relative  to  his  long  life, 
ibid.  note.  Minute  fact  recorded  by 
him  only,  318  note.  Procures  ad- 
mission for  Peter  to  Jesus's  trial, 
320.  View  of  his  character  afforded 
by  internal  evidence,  339.  His 
book  of  Revelations,  ibid  ;  ii.  18. 
Legendary  accounts  of  him ;  Cerin- 
thus  and  the  cauldron  of  oil,  18,  18 
note.  Appearance  and  object  of  his 
Gospel,  57,  58.  His  Ephesian  oppo- 
nents, 58.  Polycarp  one  of  his 
hearers,  139.  —  See  ii.  11. 

John  the  Solitary,  consulted  by  Theo- 
dosius,  iii.  211. 

Jonah,  applicability  of  a  passage 
from,  ii.  449. 

Jonathan  the  high-priest,  assassi- 
nated, i.  396,  413.  I 

Jones  on  the  canon,  iii.  364  7iote. 


Jones,  Sir  William,  on  Du  Perron's 
Zoroastrian  discoveries,  i.  73  note, 
References  to  his  Menu,  ii.  39  note, 
41  note. 

Jordan,  site  of  Si.  John's  baptismal 
station  on  the,  i.  143. 

JoKNANDES  ou  the  Goths  and  Gepidae, 
iii.  61  note. 

JoKTiN  on  the  peculiarity  of  Christ's 
discourses,  i.  197.  References  con- 
cerning Polycarp's  martyrdom,  ii. 
142,  143,  n-'tes. 

Joseph,  son  of  Jacob,  burial-place  of, 
i.  178.  Expectation  of  a  Messiah 
descended  from  him.  181. 

Joseph,  husband  of  Mary,  migration 
to  Nazareth  of,  i.  99.  His  betrothal 
to  Mary,  100.  His  warning  vision, 
107.  flis  position  relative  to  the 
census  ordered  by  Csesar,  109,  111. 
Why  he  retired  to  Galilee,  117. 

Joseph  of  Arimathea  buries  the  body 
of  Jesus,  i.  348. 

Josephus's  assertions  regarding  the 
Messiah,  i.  66  note,  89.  On  the 
oath  to  Csesar  taken  by  the  Jews, 
110.  On  the  prodigies  during  the 
siege  of  Jerusalem,  122.  His  pre- 
cocity, 137.  His  account  of  St. 
John  the  Baptist,  151  note.  On 
John's  influence  and  Herod's  perse- 
cution of  him,  176.  His  picture  of 
a  future  life,  301  note.  On  the  sus- 
pension of  Vitellius's  operations 
against  Petra,  383.  Discrepancies 
between  him  and  Tacitus,  416  7iote. 
On  tlie  murder  of  St.  James,  418 
text  and  note.  His  social  position 
in  R<ime,  ii.  13.  On  the  Jewish 
Ethnarch,  21  note.  — See  i.  68,  69 
note,  109  text  and  note,  177,  418, 
421. 

Jove.  —  See  Jupiter. 

Jovian's  refusal  to  serve  in  Julian's 
army,  iii.  13  note,  Christianity  re- 
established in  his  reign,  35. 

JoviNiAN,  nature  of  the  heresy  of, 
iii.  238.  His  fourfold  accusation, 
238,  239.  Fierceness  of  Jerome's 
invective  against  him,  239,  240. 

Jovius,  title  assumed  by  Diocletian, 
ii.  214. 

JUD.EA,  i.  61,  62,  114,  117,  139.  Its 
state  at  Christ's  birth,  91.  Its  state 
under  Herod  and  his  successor.  61, 
62.    Reduced  to  a  Roman  province, 

139.  Oppressive  conduct  of  its 
Roman  governors  and  tax-farmers, 

140.  Conflicts  of  Pharisees  and 
Sadducees,  141.  Rebellion  excited 
by  Judas  the  Galilean,  and  excesses 


474 


INDEX. 


of  his  followers,  141, 142.  Unfitness 
of  its  southern  regions  for  baptismal 
rites,  142,  143.  Its  state  under  the 
prefects;  insurrections  and  preda- 
tory incursions,  39"^,  396.  Power- 
lessness  of  its  high-priests,  396. 
Eoman  oppression  at  its  height, 
471.  Kindred  of  Jesus  summoned 
before  its  Romnn  procurator,  ii  14. 
Locality  to  which  its  rulers  were 
banished,  147. 

JuDAnji,  ii.  9,  36.  87,  161,  166,  181. 
264.  281,  359.  Attempted  alliance 
of  Polytheism  with  it,  iii.  24-28.  — 
See  Jerusalem  ;  Jews;  Judiea. 

JuPAS  the  Galilean  or  Gaulonite,  the 
Jewish  insurrectionary  leader,].  141, 
142,  201,  243,  326,  418  note.  Hos- 
tility of  his  sect  to  Jesus,  281.  His 
denunciatiim  of  the  payment  of 
tribute  to  the  Romans,  300.  Re- 
appearance of  his  sons,  395.  Gib- 
bon's conjecture  relative  to  his  fol- 
lowers and  the  Christians,  470  note. 

Judas,  Thaddeus,  or  Lebbeus,  the 
apostle,  brother  of  James,  i.  222. 
Character  of  his  epistle ;  his  sphere 
of  action,  398. 

Judas  Iscakiot,  derivation  of  the 
name,  223.  His  pretext  for  object- 
ing to  Mary's  anointment  of  Jesus, 
291.  Motives  assigned  for  his  be- 
trayal of  Jesus,  312,  313.  Amount 
of  his  reward,  and  service  rendered 
for  it,  313  note.  His  subsequent 
remorse  and  suicide,  314.  Jesus' 
rebuke  to  him  at  the  moment  of  his 
betrayal,  318.  Scene  enacted  on 
his  return  of  the  price  of  his  Mas- 
ter's blood,  328,  329.  Arius's  fate 
likened  to  his,  ii.  386. 

JuDK  "  the  brother  of  the  Lord," 
cause  and  result  of  judicial  pro- 
ceedings relative  to  the  grandsons 
of,  ii.  141. 

JuDGME^•T,  final,  references  to  the,  i. 
468;  ii.  164. 

Julian's  attempt  to  establish  a  Pla- 
tonic Paganism,  ii.  34, 185, 188,  214. 
His  references  to  Constantine,  330 
note,  391,  ibid.  note.  His  saviour  in 
his  infancy,  409.  Most  remarkable 
part  of  his  history;  results  of  his 
short  reign,  453-455.  His  religion 
and  philosophy,  456,  457.  His  edu- 
cation and  Christian  instructors, 
458-460.  Constantius's  jealousy  of, 
and  unchristian  conduct  towards, 
him,  460,  464.  His  intercourse  with 
philosophers  and  communion  with 
the  invisible  world,  461-463.    His 


escape  from  his  father's  fate,  463. 
His  residence  at  Athens ;  Gregory's 
portraiture  of  him,  465.  Initiated 
at  Eleusis;  declared  Caesar,  466. 
His  accession  as  emperor,  467.  One 
cause  of  his  apostasy  from  Chris- 
tianity, ibid  His  public  espousal 
of  Paganism;  form  of  that  religion 
adopted  by  him,  468,  469.  His  view 
of  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  470. 
His  restoration  of  Paganism,  new 
priesthood,  and  charitable  institu- 
tions, 470-476.  "  The  Ape  of  Chris- 
tianity," 475.  His  ritual,  religious 
instruction  scheme,  revival  of  ani- 
mal sacrifices,  and  personal  devo- 
tions, 476-478.  Character  of  the 
philosophers  patronized  by  him,  iii. 
5-7.  His  pretended  toleration  of 
and  sarcasms  on  Christianity,  7-9. 
His  notion  of  the  vital  principle  of 
the  Greek  writers,  11.  His  trick 
upon  the  Christians,  and  conse- 
quences of  their  resentmeiit  of  it, 
13.  His  persecutions,  14.  Result 
of  his  Paganizing  efforts  at  Con- 
stantinople and  Antioch,  and  in 
Alexandria,  15  -  24.  Ingratiates 
himself  with  the  Jews,  24,  25. 
Miraculously  foiled  in  his  attempted 
rebuilding  of  their  temple,  25-27. 
His  writings  against  Christianity, 
28,  29.  His  apology  for  his  filthy 
beard,  29.  Manner  of  his  death; 
legend  connected  with  it,  30,  31. 
Result  of  his  conflict  with  Chris- 
tianity, 32,  33.  — See  i.  49  note;  ii. 
393;  "iii.  69,  87,  359. 

Julian  us  the  centurion,  his  eques- 
trian exploit  in  the  Temple,  i.  341 
note. 

Julius  Antonius,  edict  of,  i.  457. 

Julius,  Bishop  of  Rome,  ii.  446  note. 

Julius  C.esak,  a  consulter  of  the 
Chaldaeans,  i.  50.  Colonized  Cor- 
inth, 407  note,  453-454  note.  —  See 
ii.  340  note. 

Junius  Bassus,  urn  or  sarcophagus 
of,  iii.  397  note,  400 

Jupiter,  Jove,  temples  and  adoration 
of,  ii.  94,  99, 123,  125,  236.  Deliver- 
ance ascribed  to  him,  146  note.  Out- 
voted in  favor  of  Christ  by  the 
senate,  iii.  96. 

Jupiter  Capitolinus,  i.  13;  ii.  12. 
Introduction  of  Oriental  rites  into 
his  temple,  176.  —  See  294,  391. 

JupiTEK  Latiakis,  description  of  the 
rites  of,  i.  36  note. 

Jupitei:  Olympius,  ii.  108. 

JupiTEK  Optimus  Maxi3ius,  ii.  215. 


INDEX. 


475 


Jupiter  Philius,  Maximin's  image 
to,  ii.  235.  His  rites  celebrated  by 
Julian,  iii.  18. 

JupiTEK  Stator.  i.  27. 

Jupiter  the  Thunderer,  statue  of, 
iii.  93. 

Justin  Martyr  and  the  Sibylline 
verses,  ii.  128.  His  conversion  .aid 
martyrdom,  ii.  137, 138.  His  notion 
of  the  teaching  of  Socrates,  185  note. 
On  converts,  iii.  267  iwte.  Charac- 
ter of  his  Apology,  367.  On  Christ's 
personal  appearance,  391.  —  See  ii. 
113  note. 

JusTiXA,  Empress,  zealous  in  the  cause 
of  the  Arians,  iii.  IbO.  Her  quarrels 
with  Ambrose :  his  pulpit  invectives 
against  her,  160-163. 

Justinian,  confiscation  of  the  Theo- 
retica  by,  iii.  336. 

Jutta,  suggestion  regarding,  i.  98 
note. 

Juvenal's  lines  on  Chaldaeans  and 
astrologers,  i.  50  note.  On  the  treat- 
ment of  Christian  martyrs,  469  note. 

JuvENTiNUS,  St.,  festivals  in  honor 
of,  iii.  328  note. 


K. 


Kaiomers  in  the  Magian  system,  ii. 
256. 

Karaites,  religious  ancestors  of  the, 
i.  282.     What  they  were,  ibid.  note. 

Kelts  in  Constantine's  army,  ii.  285. 

Kestner's  Commentaries  on  Euse- 
bius,  iii.  366  note. 

Khosrov,  King  of  Armenia,  and  his 
family  murdered,  ii.  259,  260. 

Khosrovedught,  daughter  of  Khos- 
rov, saved  Irom  murder,  ii.  250. 
Her  conversion  and  alleged  reve- 
lation to  her,  262. 

Kings,  book  of,  why  omitted  from  his 
Bible  by  Ulphilas,  iii.  60. 

Klaproth's  eulogy  on  Buddhism,  i. 
102  note. 

Kleuker,  i.  71  note,  73  note,  74  note, 
77  note.  His  "Anhang  zum  Zen- 
davesta,"  ii.  39  note,  ii.  252  note. 

Knittel,  sacred  manuscripts  discov- 
ered by,  iii.  60  note. 

Kndwledge,  effect  on  Polytheism  of 
the  progress  of,  i.  33-38. 

Koran,  source  of  some  of  the  tradi- 
tions of  the,  ii.  181.  Storj'  of  the 
cave  of  Hira,  268.  Criticisms  there- 
on, ibid.  note. 

Keeuser,  amusing  observations  in  a 
work  by,  i.  460  note. 


Kuinoel  on  the  reading  of  Jutta,  i. 
98.  His  theory  of  the  possessed 
swine,  232  note. 


L. 


Labarum,  Constantine's  Christian 
standard,  occasion  of  the,  ii.  291. 
Its  Heathen  element,  294.  Victories 
ascribed  to  it,  323,  331.  Christ's 
monogram  removed,  iii.  13.  —  See 
403.  HiUe  3. 

La  Bastie  M.,  on  laws  against  magic, 
ii.  392  note.  His  "  M^moires  des 
Inscription,"  iii.  86,  note  2. 

Labbe  on  Christian  councils  and 
canons,  references  to,  iii.  268,  273, 
283,  302,  notes. 

Laberius,  the  mimes  of,  iii.  343. 

Laborde  on  Roman  architecture  in 
the  East,  iii.  70  nx)te. 

Labyrinth  of  Egypt,  ii.  160. 

Lactantius,  Christian  tutor  to  Con- 
stantine's son,  ii.  319,  326.  Hu- 
mane laws  due  to  his  advice,  398. 
Inveighs  against  tragedy  and  come- 
dy, iii  342  note.  His  contempt  for 
physical  knowledge,  422  note.  —  See 
iii.  312,  339,  340  notes,  356. 

L^LH  of  the  Roman  republic,  ii.  44. 

LiETUS.  the  prefect  persecutor  of  the 
Christians,  ii.  161,  162. 

LAiTr  present  at  the  Nicene  Council, 
ii.  370.  When  permitted  to  officiate 
in  the  Church,  iii.  372  note.  Lay- 
elders,  ii.  25  note. 

Lama,  the,  ii.  40. 

Labipadius,  Tillemont's  statement  re- 
garding, iii.  43  note. 

Lampridius,  citations  from,  ii.  176, 
179,  182,  183,  notes. 

Language,  iii.  55,  56,  354.  —  See 
Latin ;  Literature. 

Lanist/E,  keepers  of  gladiators,  iii. 
349. 

Laodicea,  a  seat  of  poetico-prophetic 
forgeries,  ii    124.  —  See  Councils. 

Lapsi,  the  fallen  Christians  of  Atrica, 
ii.  193. 

Lardner,  Dr.,  on  the  date  of  Cyre- 
nius's  Judaean  governorship,  i.  109 
note.  On  the  Jewish  census,  110 
note.  On  demoniacs,  228  note.  On 
persecutions  under  Antoninus  and 
Aurelius,  ii  113  note,  147  note.  On 
Manicheism,  265  note,  268  note,  272 
note. —  See  i.  418  note;  iii.  95  note. 

Lateran  basilica  granted  for  a  Chris- 
tian church,  ii.  298,  348. 

Latin  Christianity,  History  of.  —  See 
Milman. 


476 


INDEX. 


Latin  language,  kept  alive  by  Chris- 
tianity, iii.  56,  175.  Never  quite  in 
harmony  with  the  genius  of  the  lat- 
ter, 354. 

Law,  tradition  of  the  delivery  of  the, 
i.  80.  Sons  of  the  Law,  136.  Place 
of  its  reading,  178.  Given  to  Jesus, 
185.  Regulations  for  reading  it, 
ibid.  note.  Its  conservators  and  in- 
terpreters, 1S9;  ii.  23.  Position  of 
Jesus  with  regard  to  it,  i.  190-192, 
258.  Its  sabbath-day  ordinances, 
211.  Superstitious  reverence  paid 
to  it,  424-426,  430.  Same  decaying, 
433.  Scope  of  the  Epistle  to  the 
Romans  with  regard  to  it,  429.  Law 
and  Gospel,  432.  Embodied  in  the 
legislation  of  Christian  emperors,  ii. 
401. 

Lazarus,  Jesus  at  the  house  of  rela- 
tives of,  i.  270,  274,  290.  His  death, 
274.  Raised  from  the  sepulchre  by 
Jesus,  275.  His  second  death  de- 
creed, 291.     Why,  ibid.  note. 

Le  Bp:au,  St.  Martin's  notes  on,  iii. 
18,  44,  60j  notes.  —  See  St.  Ilartin. 

Le  Clekc,  i.  107  note,  419  note.  Fear- 
ful sentence  of  St.  Augustine  quoted 
from  his  book,  iii.  95. 

Legends,  Christian,  their  character, 
iii.  363. 

Legion,  the  thundering,  ii.  145. 

Lemuria  (Remuria),  object  of  the, 
i.  28  note. 

Lentulus,  prohibition  of  human  sac- 
rifices by,  i.  34  note. 

Leonidas,  father  of  Origen,  martyr- 
dom of,  ii.  161  note. 

Leper  healed  by  Jesus,  i.  205,  290. 
The  ten  lepers,  284. 

Lessing  on  Christ's  promulgation  of 
the  immortality  of  the  soul,  i.  351 
note. 

LiBANius  on  the  employment  of  tem- 
ple materials,  ii.  471  note.  On  Ju- 
lian's restoration  of  Paganism,  472. 
His  writings  and  Julian's  admira- 
tion for  them,  iii.  6,  7,  10,  356,  370 
note.  Retort  of  a  grammarian  to  his 
sneer,  35.  His  insult  to  Christian 
worship,  ibid.  note.  His  narrow  es- 
cape from  the  charge  of  magic,  46. 
His  oration  for  revenging  Julian's 
death,  64,  77  note.  His  oration 
"For  the  Temples,"  70,  83  note. 
His  regret  for  his  pupil's  conver- 
sion, 123.  On  tragic  lables,  342. 
On  pantomimes,  342  note,  344. — 
See  ii.  391;  iii.  7,  34,  37,  68,  notes, 
72,  72  note,  112,  128,  248,  340, 
TMtes. 


LiBELLATici,  the,  in  the  African 
Church,  ii.  193. 

Libraries  and  manuscripts,  destruc- 
tion of,  iii.  48. 

Liberius,  Bishop  and  Pope  of  Rome, 
compromise  refused  by,  ii.  427. 
Stern  against  imperial  offers,  430. 
Effect  of  his  long  exile  upon  his " 
resolution,  ibid.  Female  appeal  for 
his  liberation,  431.  His  return  to 
his  episcopate,  447.  —  See  445. 

Libertines,  sect  of,  i.  365. 

Licinius,  co-emperor,  ii.  232.  His 
war  with  and  defeat  of  Maximin, 
234,  242,  279.  Joined  in  govern- 
ment with  Con.stantine,  241,  294. 
Effect  of  his  first  war  Avith  Con- 
stantine,  319.  Espouses  the  Pagan 
cause:  persecutes  the  Christians, 
320-322.  His  death,  323,  325,  325 
note.  Repeal  of  his  anti-Christian 
edicts,  32.3.  His  son  put  to  death, 
327.  — See  ii.  324,  344,  354,  366, 
367,  376,  390. 

Life,  fixture.  —  See  Immortality  of  the 
Soul. 

Light,  great  principle  of,  i.  114. 

"Light  of  the  VVorld,"  Christ's  pro- 
clamation of  Himself  as  the,  i.  76. 

Lightfoot's  "Harmony,"  i.  63,  64, 
notes.  On  the  Jewish  notion  of  the 
Messiah,  83,  85  note.  Sometimes 
misled  by  his  rabbinism,  113  7iote. 
Temple  service  given  by  him,  jii. 
406  note. 

Lindsay,  Lord,  on  the  habitations  of 
the  early  Christians,  iii.  333  note. 

LiPSTUS  on  the  Agapje,  iii.  329  note. 

Literature  of  the  ante-Christian 
era,  character  of  the,  i.  45,  46.  In- 
fiueuce  of  Christianity  upon  it,  iii. 
55.  Greek  and  Latin  poetry,  115. 
Christian  literature,  354-357. 

Lives  of  saints,  iii.  365. 

LiVY,  act  of  Numa  admired  by, 
i.  46. 

Loaves  and  fishes,  miracle  of  the, 
i.  235.     Its  repetition,  247. 

Lobe's  edition  of  Ulphilas's  Bible,  iii. 
60  note. 

Lobeck's  "  Aglaophamus,"  i.  18  note. 
Points  traced  out  by  him,  24  note. 
Intenabilit}'  of  his  views  relative  to 
mystei-ies,  39  note.  Various  theo- 
ries stated  by  him,  ibid.  note. 

Locusts  as  an  article  of  food,  i.  144 
note. 

Logos  or  Divine  Word,  place  and  of- 
fice in  Oriental  theology  of  the.  i. 

80,  81.    Its  definition  in  "Revelation, 

81.  —  See  ii.  68,  73,  75  note,  358,  359. 


INDEX. 


477 


LOLLIANUS,  why  put  to  death,  iii.  43. 
Occasion  of  the  nickname  given  to 
him.  ibid. 

Lord's  Supper.  —  See  Eucharist. 

Lombard  invasion,  event  prefigured 
in  Pope  Gregory's  imagination  by 
the,  iii.  424. 

LuCAN  and  his  witch  Erictho,  i.  50 
note.  Locality  of  his  "  Cumque  su- 
perba,"  &c.,  69  note. 

Lucian's  treatise  "De  Dea  Syria,"  i. 
405  note.  An  exponent  of  unbelief, 
ii.  186.  His  days  past,  363.  Not 
author  of  the  "  Philopatris,"  363 
note. 

LuciANUS,  Bishop  of  Antioch,  death 
in  prison  of,  ii.  236.  His  assertion 
relative  to  Christianity,  280. 

Lucifer  of  Cac;liari,  representative 
of  the  Pope  at  the  Milan  Council, 
li.  428.  Admired  by  Athanasius, 
438,  439.  His  banishment,  and 
books  against  Constantius,  430,  438, 
447. 

Lucius,  Arian  Bishop  of  Alexandria, 
iii.  49. 

Lucretius,  a  sponsor  for  Epicurean- 
ism, i.  49.  Curious  coincidence 
with  his  "Nihil  indiga  nostri,"  451 
note. 

Luke,  St.,  and  the  census  of  the 
Jews,  i.  109  no<e,  110.  Probability 
inferred  from  his  silence,  113.  As 
to  his  account  of  the  slaughter  of 
the  Galileans  in  the  Temple,  242 
note  and  text.  His  historical  accu- 
racy, 400  note.  Author  of  the  Acts 
of  the  Apostles,  473.  His  reference 
to  Simon  Magus,  ii.  51.  His  Gospel 
appropriated  by  Marcion,  83. 

Lupercalia,  long  existence  of  the, 
iii.  102. 

Lupi,  ancient  monumental  inscription 
published  by,  iii.  388  note. 

Luther,  a  reviver  of  Augustine's 
theolog}',  iii.  176. 

Lydia  of  Thyatira,  conversion  of,  and 
its  attendant  incidents,  i.  445,  446. 

Lydia,  a  literary  equivalent  for  all 
the  gold  of,  iii.  6,  7. 

Lyell,  Sir  Charles,  result  of  the  late 
researches  of,  i.  17  note. 

Lyons,  settlement  of  Jews  at,  ii.  147. 
Its  martyr,  see  Attains.  Its  bishop, 
see  IrencBus. 

Lysias,  Roman  commander  in  Jeru- 
salem, his  first  suspicion  and  later 
impression  regarding  St.  Paul,  i. 
411,  412. 

Lysias,  Greek  author,  iii.  11. 

Lystra.  Paul  at,  i.  399,  406.    His  ill 


usage  by  its  people,  402,  444.  Its 
Jew  residents,  443  note.  Character 
of  its  Polytheism;  view  taken  by 
its  people  of  the  apostolic  miracles, 
443,  444,  447. 


M. 


Macarius,  ofi"ence  charged  against, 
ii.  381.  Its  recoil  upon  Athanasius, 
383. 

Macaulay,  Lord,  on  human  sacri- 
fices under  the  Romans,  i.  35  note. 

Macbeth,  Lady,  ancient  parallel  to 
an  exclamation  of,  ii.  143  note. 

Macedonia,  i.  456.  Paul's  journey 
through,  462,  463.  Dissertation  on 
its  dialect,  iii.  355  note. 

Macedonians,  the  sect  of;  "Inter- 
minata  poena"  against  them,  305 
note. 

Macedonius  the  Arian;  his  qualifi- 
cations for  a  bishop,  ii.  412  note. 
Flaw  in  his  election  as  Bishop  of 
Constantinople,  419.  His  bloody 
passage  to  his  episcopal  throne, 
426.  His  heresies,  448.  Deposed, 
451. 

Macedonius  the  monk,  bold  remon- 
strance of,  iii.  131. 

Mach.erus,  Fortress  of,  John  the 
Baptist's  prison,  i.  225. 

Macknight  on  a  miracle  of  Jesus, 
i.  261  note. 

Macrianus,  anti-Christian  edict  sug- 
gested by,  ii.  195. 

Macrinus,  Emperor,  ii.  176  note. 

Macrobius,  statue  of  Serapis  de- 
scribed by,  iii.  73,  74,  notes.  On 
Praitextatus,  84  note, 

Madaura,  place  of  Augustine's  edu- 
cation, iii.  184. 

M^so-GoTHic  alphabet,  chief  ele- 
ment of  the,  iii.  59. 

Magi,  or  Magians ;  character  of  their 
theism,  i.  23.  Doctrine  ascribed  to 
them  by  Pausanias,  48.  Nature  of 
their  system,  71.  Its  origin  and 
promulgation,  72.  Records  con- 
taining its  principles,  73.  Points 
of  similarity  between  it  and  the 
later  prophetic  writings,  76.  Their 
visit  to  Bethlehem,  113  note.  Sus- 
picions excited  thereby,  115,  116. 
Region  from  whence  they  came, 
115  note.  Revival  of  their  system 
(Zoroastrianism),  ii.  251.  Number 
and  wealth  of  its  priesthood,  252. 
Its  re-establishment  and  intolerance 
of  its    hierarchy,    253,    255,    256. 


478 


INDEX. 


Testamentary  injunctions  of  its  re- 
founder,  257.  INlurder  of  Christian 
bishops  by  its  followers,  258.  An- 
tagonism of  the  system  with  Mani- 
cheism,  263,  265.  Mani  one  of 
Magian  race,  267.  Fate  of  Mani  at 
their  hands,  276.  —  See  Ztndavtsta; 
Zminsttr. 

Magic,  Athanasius  charged  with  the 
practice  of,  ii.  382.  Laws  of  Con- 
stantine  and  Constans  against  it, 
392,  392  note.  Prosecutions  and 
persecutions,  iii.  37-39, 41, 42.  Exe- 
cution for  copying  a  magical  book, 
43.  The  last  refuge  of  conscious 
weakness,  100. 

Magnentius,  usurper  of  the  Western 
empire,  ii.  425.  His  defeat  at 
Mursa,  425.  His  inhuman  sacrifice 
on  that  occasion,  425  note.  Charge 
against  Athanasius  in  connection 
with  him,  428. 

Magnificat,  the,  iii.  359.  Sung  from 
the  earliest  ages,  407,  408. 

Magus,  Simon,  see  Simon  Magus. 

Maiia  Bharata,  reference  to  a  tale 
in,  ii.  41  note. 

Mahomet.  —  See  Mohammed. 

Mai,  Angelo,  striking  passage  brought 
to  light  by,  i.  44  note.  Palimpsests 
of  bt.  Paul  published  by  him,  iii. 
60  note. 

Maimonides  on  the  Cabala,  i.  69 
niite. 

Maiuma,  banquets  so  called,  iii.  18. 

Majokinus  elected  Bishop  of  Car- 
thage, ii.  306.     His  successor,  308. 

Malabar,  Christians  settled  on  the 
coasts  of,  ii.  35. 

Malachi,  the  last  of  the  prophets, 
i.  97,  146. 

Malchus's  ear  struck  off  by  Peter, 
and  healed  by  Jesus,  i.  319  text  and 
note. 

Mallius,  plays  during  the  consulship 
of,  iii.  341.  Claudian's  poem  on 
the  subject,  340  note,  341  note. 

Ma:machi  on  architecture,  art,  &c., 
of  the  primitive  Christians,  iii.  315, 
324,  340,  388,  390,  notes. 

Mamertinus  on  Julian's  restoration 
of  the  Eleusinian  temple,  iii.  15 
note.,  2. 

Mamm.ea,  mother  of  Alexander  Sev- 
erus,  character  of,  ii.  180. 

Mamke,  celebrated  tree  of,  ii.  353. 

Man  not  created,  but  found  ready- 
made  by  Satan,  ii.  67  note. 

Manes,  festival  of  the,  i.  28. 

Manes  the  heresiarch,  system  at- 
tempted by,  i.  69,  70.  —  bee  ii.  34. 


Mani,  attitude  of  Christians  and 
Magians  towards,  ii.  258.  Object 
aimed  at,  and  sources  drawn  on, 
by  him  in  the  formation  of  his  re- 
ligious system,  263-265.  His  twelve 
apostles,  and  his  Ertang  or  Gospel, 
and  his  pictures  in  the  latter,  265, 
266,  268.  His  birth,  race,  and  ac- 
complishments, 267.  Details  of  his 
system,  2C!^-274.  Artifice  b}'  vvliich 
he  was  entrapped  and  murdered, 
276.  Propagation  of  his  doctrines 
after  his  death,  and  persecution  of 
his  followers,  277-279,  279  note. 
Martyrs  to  his  tenets,  iii.  65,  173. 
Testamentary  disability  imposed  on 
his  followers,  105 

Manicheism.  —  See  ii.  301,358;  iii. 
178,  422. 

Manilius,  verses  from,  i.  21  note. 

Manna,  i.  236  note. 

Mantinea,  games  established  in 
honor  of  Antinijus  at,  ii.  109. 

Manumission  of  slaves,  ii.  399  note. 

Manuscripts,  destruction  of,  iii.  47. 

Marangoni  "  dei  cnse  Gentileschi," 
iii.  329  note. 

Marcella,  Jerome's  character  of,  iii. 
234  note. 

Marcellina,  portraits  placed  in  a 
Gnostic  church  by,  iii.  395. 

Marcellinus. —  See  Ammianus  Mar- 
cellinus. 

Marcellus,  charge  founded  on  the 
plunder  of  the  Sicilian  temples  by, 
i.  13  note. 

Marcellus  of  Apamea,  martyrdom 
of,  iii.  71. 

Marcellus,  Christian  soldier,  occa- 
sion of  the  fame  of,  ii.  276. 

Marcellus,  Pope,  degrading  office 
forced  by  Maxentius  on,  ii.  287. 

Marcia,  concubine  of  Commodus, 
humanizing  influence  of,  ii    157. 

Marcion  of  Pontus,  transformation 
'  and  appropriation  of  the  Gospels 
by,  ii.  61.  Opposed  b}'  Bardesanes, 
78.  Character  and  fundamental 
principle  and  details  of  his  system, 
80-82.  His  treatment  of  the*^  Para- 
ble of  the  Prodigal  Son,  83  note. 
In  Rome:  social  rank  of  his  fol- 
lowers, 87.  Opposed  bv  Tertullian, 
164. 

Marcomannic  war,  aspect  of  Rome 
at  the  news  of  the,  ii.  132.  Com- 
pared with  the  second  Punic  war, 
136. 

Marcurius,  defeat  of  the  Circumcel- 
lions  by,  ii.  314. 

Marcus,  Bishop  of  Jerusalem,  set- 


INDEX. 


479 


dement  of  the  Christians  under, 
i.  433. 

Marcus  Aurelius  Antoninus,  i. 
456;  ii.  94.  His  character,  115. 
Causes  of  the  hostility  of  his  gov- 
ernment to  Christianity,  116,  128. 
Extent  of  his  participation  m  the 
persecution  of  the  Christians,  131. 
An  alleged  consulter  of  astrologers, 
13"J.  Surj^rised  at  the  contempt  of 
the  Christians  for  death,  132,  133. 
His  literary  style,  133  7iote.  An 
encourager  of  common  informers, 
133.  His  accession  to  empire,  134. 
Martyrdoms  and  persecutions  un- 
der his  rule,  137-143,  147  151,  157. 
Christians  in  his  armies,  145.  Provi- 
dential storm  (thundering  legion) 
ascribed  to  his  virtues,  146.  Close 
of  Home's  golden  days  with  him, 
152.  Last  effort  of  expiring  Poly- 
theism. 154. 

Marcus.  —  See  Mark. 

Maki^ia.  battle  of,  ii.  319. 

Mardonius,  Julian's  tirst  instructor, 
character  of  the  teachings  of,  ii.  459. 

Mareotis,  alleged  profanation  of  a 
church  in  the,  ii.  381.  George  of 
Cappadocia's  trading  speculation  in 
the  productions  of  the  lake,  435, 

Mariamne,  Herod's  wife,  political 
consequences  of  the  assassination 
of  the  sons  of,  i.  61  —  See  99,  176. 

Maris,  Bishop  of  Chalcedon,  a  recu- 
sant at  the  Council  of  Nicaea,  ii.  373. 
His  retort  to  Julian's  taunt  upon  his 
blindness,  iii.  9. 

Mark,  Bishop  of  Arethusa,  preserva- 
tion of  the  infant  Julian  by,  ii.  409, 
459;  iii.  24.  His  murder  and  its 
cause,  iii.  24. 

Mark,  St.,  W  eisse's  notion  as  to  the 
composition  of  the  Gospel  of,  i.  124. 
—  See  356  7iote. 

Mark.  —  See  Marcus. 

Marjiarica. — See  Tkeonas. 

Marnas,  close  of  the  temple  of,  iii.  71. 

Marriage,  how  regarded  by  the  Jews, 
i.  1U3  note.  The  invention  of  Satan, 
ii.  67.  Views  of  the  Montanists,  164, 
165.  Disabilities  imposed  in  certain 
cases  by  Constantine,  400,  401  note, 
402.  Contemptuous  language  of 
some  of  the  Fathers  regarding  it,  iii. 
201  -  203  notes.  Restrictions  and 
prohibitions  as  affecting  the  clergy, 
and  evil  consequences  thereof,  283- 
287,  287  note.  Brought  under  eccle- 
siastical discipline,  292.  Impedi- 
ments recognized  and  insisted  on 
by  the  Church,  293.   Made  a  sacra- 


ment, 296.  View  of  the  Eastern 
Church  as  to  second  marriages,  29<» 
note.  —  See  ii.  41  rn'te;  iii.  116. 

Marriage-Feast,  miracle  of  Jesus, 
i.  161. 

Mars,  or  Gradivus,  divine  ancestor 
of  the  Piomans,  i    13,  26. 

SIarsh,  Bishop,  his  edition  of  Mi- 
chaelis,  i.  126. 

^Iaetin,  St.,  of  Tour.'-.,  extii-pator  of 
idolatry  in  Gaul,  iii.  82,  106.  His 
protest  against  Priscillian's  martyr- 
dom, 173.  Style  and  contents  of 
his  life  by  Sulpicius  Severus,  356 
note. 

Martin,  author.  —  See  St.  Martin. 

jNIartyrdom,  rage  among  the  Cir- 
cumcellions  for,  ii.  313.  Of  Chris- 
tian soldiers  under  Julian,  iii.  18. 
Of  the  missionaries  in  the  Tyrol,  69 
note.  Martyr  Festivals,  328.  Not 
the  subject"^of  pictorial  art  till  the 
dark  ages,  401. 

Martyrs,  law  against  selling  the 
bodies  of,  iii.  329  nute.  Eminent 
martyrs,  see  Attains ;  Bahylas ; 
Blandina  ;  Cyprian ;  Fabianus ;  Fe  ■ 
Ucitas;  Germanicus;  James, '■'■broth- 
er of  the  Lord;'"  John  the  Baptist; 
Justin ;  Lucinniis ;  Marcellus  of 
Apamea ;  Maturus  ;  Numidicus ; 
I^aid,  St. ;  Perpttua  ;  Peter  the 
Patriarch  ;  Polycarp ;  Peter,  St. ; 
PrisciUinn ;  Sebastian ;  Stephen,  St. 

Martyr-Worship,  iii.  325-327. 

Mary,  the  Virgin,  i.  98,  Her  betrothal 
to  Joseph,  100.  Gospel  narrative 
of  the  Annunciation,  100,  101.  In- 
cidents of  her  visit  to  Elizabeth, 
105,  106.  Wordsworth's  sonnet  to 
her,  105  note.  Journey  of  herself 
and  Joseph  to  Bethlehem,  107,  108. 
Their  flight  into  Egypt  and  return 
to  Galilee,  116, 117.  Tutelary  guar- 
dian of  Constantinople,  ii.  339  ?iote. 
Early  pictorial  representations  of 
her,  "^iii.  398,  399.  Tertullian's  de- 
rogatory remark,  430  ?iote. 

Mary  Magdalene  anointing  Christ's 
feet,  i.  228.  At  his  sepulchre :  vision 
seen  by  her,  356-358.  His  appear- 
ance to  her,  359. 

Mary  the  mother  of  James  and  Joses, 
at  Christ's  sepulchre,  i.  356. 

Mary  and  Martha,  sisters  of  Laza- 
rus, their  devotion  to  Jesus,  274, 
275,  290.  Protest  of  Judas  against 
Mary's  anointment  of  Jesus,  291. 

Massacre  of  Thessalonica,  iii.  170. 

Massmann's  edition  of  Ulphilas,  iii. 
60  7iote.    Extract,  62  note. 


480 


INDEX. 


Massuet  on  the  ubiquity  of  the  saints, 
iii.  426  note. 

Mathematicians  expelled  by  Nero, 
ii.  8. 

Matter,  Gnostic  and  Oriental  notions 
of,  ii.  38,  59,  63,  68,  81,  83  note,  86 
ni<te,  264. 

Matter,  M.,  on  Menander's  baptismal 
heresy,  ii.  55  note.  On  Satan's  re- 
lation to  man,  67  note.  On  the  in- 
terpretation of  the  mysterious  Avord 
Abraxas,  70  note.  On  the  notion 
of  the  beneficent  serpent,  85  note. 

Matthew,  St.,  publican,  and  after- 
wards evangelist,  called  by  Jesus, 
207,  221.  His  Gospel,  how  formed, 
125.  Its  language  and  character, 
397,  398.  Same,  the  only  Gospel 
received  by  the  Judseo-Christians 
of  Pella,  434.  And  by  the  Carpo- 
cratians,  ii.  84. 

Maturus,  torture  and  martyrdom  of, 
ii.  149,  150,  151. 

Maumdrell's  notice  of  Jacob's  well, 
i.  178  note. 

Maxentius,  human  sacrifices  by,  i, 
35  note.  His  assumption  of  the 
purple,  ii.  227.  His  dissolute  in- 
dulgences, 227,  286,  287.  Why 
he  identified  himself  with  the  cause 
of  Polytheism,  228,  285,  287.  Con- 
stantine's  victory  over  him,  241,  248, 
279,  293,  316,  326,  387  note.  His 
deification  of  Galerius,  286.  De- 
vastates Carthage,  286,  301.  Accu- 
sations against  him  relative  to  a 
Roman  tumult,  286.  His  degrada- 
tion of  the  pope,  287.  Pagan  enor- 
mities ascribed  to  him,  287,  288. 
African  gratitude  for  the  gift  of  his 
head,  294.  —  See  ii.  325. 

Maximia,  result  of  a  charge  of  magic 
by,  iii.  41. 

Maximian  (self-styled  Herculius),  ii. 
214.  His  persecution  of  the  Chris- 
tians, 224.  His  reluctant  abdication, 
226,  227.  Resumes  the  purple,  284. 
Anticipates  the  executioner's  sen- 
tence, ibid.  —  See  229,  280. 

Maximilla,  apostle  of  Montanism,  ii. 
165. 

Maximin  the  Thracian,  ii.  154,  176, 
189.  His  treatment  of  the  Chris- 
tiana, 189,  190. 

Maximin  II.  —  Maximin  Daias,  po- 
sition of,  ii.  227.  Why  jealous  of 
the  edict  in  favor  of  the  Christians, 
232.  Fruits  of  the  humane  zeal  of 
his  prefect,  232.  His  stratagem  for 
overthrowing  Christianity  and  re- 
organizing Paganism,  234, 235.  His 


persecution  of  the  Christians  and 
martyrdom  of  their  bishops,  236, 
280.  His  tyranny  in  gratifying  his 
passions,  238.  His  war  with  Arme- 
nia, 238,  262.  Famine  and  pesti- 
lence in  his  dominions,  239,  240. 
His  apology  for  his  persecutions, 
revenge  on  the  Pagan  priesthood, 
and  pacificatory  rescripts,  240,  241, 
280.  His  miserable  end,  241,  285. 
—  See  242,  283,  320,  344. 

Maximin,  Yalentinian's  representa- 
tive at  Rome,  antecedents  of,  iii.  40, 
His  tortures  of  suspected  persons, 
41.     His  chief  victims,  42. 

Maxim  INI  ANS,  an  offshoot  of  the  Do- 
natists,  doctrines  asserted  by  the, 
ii.  314. 

Maximinus,  St.,  annual  festival  in 
honor  of,  iii.  328  note. 

Maximus,  Bishop  of  Turin,  iii.  102 
note. 

MAXiaius  the  cynic  obtains  and  is 
driven  from  the  bishopric  of  Con- 
stantinople, iii.  119,  120. 

Maximus  the  philosopher,  com- 
mencement of  Julian's  acquaintance 
with,  ii.  461.  His  alleged  wonderful 
powers,  461, 462.  Brings  Julian  into 
communication  with  the  invisible 
world,  462,  463.  His  eminence  in 
his  own  school,  iii  6.  Summoned 
to  Constantinople  by  Julian,  ibid. 
His  behavior  at  court,  7.  At  Julian's 
death-bed,  31.  Persecuted  and  tor- 
tured by  Valentinian,  46.  Tricks 
his  wife  into  suicide,  ibid.  His  fatal 
predictions  and  execution,  47. 

Maximus,  usurper  in  Gaul,  result  of 
Ambrose's  missions  to,  iii.  160, 167. 
His  reception  of  Ambrose's  re- 
proaches, 167.  Martyrdoms  under 
him,  173. 

Maximus  Tyrius,  defence  of  Greek 
anthropomorphism  by,  i.  25  note. 

Mecca,  the  Caaba  of,  li.  353. 

Mediterranean  Sea,  navigation,  in 
Paul's  time,  of  the,  i.  464. 

Mediator,  universal  notion  of  n,  i. 
78,  79. 
I  Meletius,  Bishop  of  Antioch,  friend 
j       of  Chrysostom,  iii.  124. 
1  Meletius,  Bishop  of  Lyons,  and  his 
i       followers,  ii.  364  note,  382. 

Melita,  incident  of  Paul  and  the 
i  viper  at,  and  its  eft'ect  on  the  natives 
I       of,  i.  464. 

Memnon,  statue  of,  ii-  108  note. 

Memnonium,  the,  and  the  temples  of 
Memphis,  ii.  160. 

Memra,  or  Divine  Word,  an  appella- 


INDEX. 


481 


tion  for  the  expected  Messiah,  i.  80, 
89  note. 

Menander,  illustrative  line  from,  i. 
45.  — See  i.  437,  iii.  342. 

Menander,  doctrinal  heir  to  Simon 
Magus,  ii,  55.  His  incongruous 
baptismal  tenet,  55  note.  His  Gnos- 
tic scholars :  Saturninus,  65 ;  Basil- 
ides,  68. 

Mensurius,  Bishop  of  Carthage, 
accusations  of  the  Donatists  against, 
ii.  304.  His  death,  305.  His  more 
vigorous  successor,  305. 

Mektal  derangement,  a  sign  of  di- 
vine displeasure,  ii.  284.  Monkish 
trea:;jaent  of  mental  aberrations, 
413. 

!ilENU.  —  See  Jones. 

Mercury  extinguished  in  the  Sibyl- 
line verses,  ii.  123.  Homage  paid 
to  him  by  Marcus  Aurelius,  146, 
ibid.  note.  His  literary  votaries,  iii. 
11. 

Merobaudes,  poet  and  general, 
statue  raised  to,  iii.  99  note,  253. 
Style,  and  sample  of  his  poem, 
100  note. 

Mesopotamia,  result  of  a  rising  of 
the  Jews  at,  i.  69;  ii.  102,  103. 
Subject  of  conflicts  between  Rome 
and"  Persia,  253.  Oppressions  of 
the  Jews,  258.  Spread  of  monastic 
establishments,  iii.  109. 

Messiah,  period  of  the  general  ex- 
pectation of  the,  i.  63,  64.  Calami- 
ties expected  to  herald  his  coming, 
63  note,  148.  Nature  of  the  belief 
regarding  Him;  Old  Testament 
references  to  Him,  64,  65.  Opinions 
of  modern  scholars,  65  note.  Tra- 
ditionary notions  and  their  sources, 
65,  66.  Authorities,  inspired  and 
profane,  66  note.  Application  of  the 
term  ''  Light  of  the  World  "  to  Him, 
76,  102.  Identified  with  "the 
Word,"  81.  Association  of  his 
coming  with  the  final  resurrection, 
83,  360.  Expectati(  ms  of  the  Pales- 
tinian Jews  regarding  Him,  84,  85, 
295.  Notions  of  the  Alexandrian 
Jews;  picture  drawn  by  Philo,  86, 
87.  Various  ideas  of  the  Messianic 
attributes,  88, 89.  Illustrative  cita- 
tions, 88  note.  Beliefs  of  the  peo- 
ple and  apprehensions  of  their 
rulers,  90,  91.  Probable  feelings 
excited  by  the  birth  of  an  infant 
Messiah,  93.  Not  expected  by  the 
Jews  to  be  born  of  a  virgin^  103 
note.  John  the  Baptist  annoimces 
his  coming  and  its  purpose,  147- 


149.  Notion  of  the  double  Mes- 
siah, 159  note.  Samaritan  notions 
and  expectations  regard  ng  Him, 
180-182.  Blessings  prophesied  as 
his  accompaniments,  236  note.  Ex- 
clusive notions  still  entertained  after 
the  Resurrection,  388,  389.  Merg- 
ing of  the  term  Messiah  into  that 
of  Redeemer  of  the  World,  391. 
Belief  in  his  second  coming,  429. 
—  See  Jesus. 

Michael,  the  archangel,  signification 
of  the  name,  i.  77  note.  Daniel's 
visionary  representation  of  him, 
ibid. 

MiCHAELTS,  Bishop  Marsh's  edition 
of,  i.  126.  On  the  phenomena  ac- 
companying the  death  of  Jesus,  347 
note.  On  the  violence  of  the  Jews 
in  Stephen's  case,  377  7iofe.  On 
the  Nicolaitans,  ii.  58-59  7wte. 

MiHRAN,  King  of  Iberia,  occasion  of 
the  conversion  of,  ii.  407,  408. 

Milan,  effect  of  the  edict  of,  ii.  294 
note,  816,  320.  Ancient  court-capi- 
tal of  the  Western  empire,  335 ;  iii. 
106.  Burial-place  "  ad  Innocentes," 
iii.  40  note.  Ambrosian  service  in 
its  church,  166,  410.  —  See  ii.  210, 
248.     See  also  Councils. 

Miletus,  Paul  at,  i.  463,  472.  Its 
oracle  of  Apollo,  ii.  215,  219. 

Military  (  hristianity,  origin  of,  ii. 
292;  iii.  415. 

Mill,  James,  point  in  Indian  history 
slurred  over  by,  i.  24  note. 

Millennium,  a  fable  "  of  Jewish 
dotage,"  i.  85  note.  Periods  of  its 
expected  coming,  431.  Rabbinical 
expectations  regarding  it,  431  note. 
Allusions  to  it  in  apocryphal  writ- 
ings, ii.  121,  ibid.  note. — -"See  i.  468; 
ii   61  note. 

Millennium  of  Rome,  ii.  190. 

Millin  on  the  plain  chant,  iii.  410 
note. 

Milman's  writings,  quotations  from, 
or  references  to;  Bampton  Lec- 
tures, i.  440-442  note.  History 
of  the  Jews,  i.  67,  69,  113,  399, 
notes.  History  of  Latin  Christian- 
ity, ii.  373  note;  iii.  62,  100,  227. 
242,  270,  299,  347,  373,  396,  430,' 
431,  notes.  Sanskrit  translations, 
ii.  41  note. 

Milton,  probable  source  of  a  paradi- 
siacal picture  of,  i.  87.  Belief  em- 
bodied in  his  hymn  on  the  Na- 
tivity, 112.  His  "  Umitary  cherub," 
ii.  75. 

Milvian  Bridge,  battle  of,  ii.  293. 


VOL.  III. 


31 


482 


INDEX. 


Mimes  and  Pantomimes  of  the  Eo- 
mans,  iii.  343-347. 

Mind,  Oriental  and  Gnostic  notions 
of  the,  ii.  38,  69,  73,  75,  76,  264. 
Its  imaginary  state,  iii.  419.  —  See 
Mental  Derangement. 

MiNEKVA  and  her  Palladium,  venera- 
tion for,  ii.  177.  The  Lyndus  statue 
carried  to  Constantinople,  339.  Ef- 
fect of  her  apparition  on  Alaric,  iii. 
82  note. 

MiNERViNA,  Constantine's  first  wife, 
ii.  326. 

MiNUCius  Felix,  illustrative  pas- 
sages from,  ii.'  184;  iii.  324  note, 
393  7iote.  High  literary  character 
of  his  "Octavius,"  368  note. 

MiNUCius  P'UNDANUS,  Hadrian's  in- 
structions to,  concerning  the  Chris- 
tians, ii.  110. 

Miracles,  considerations  on,  iii.  27 
note.  Augustine's  argument  on 
their  continuance,  165  note. 

Miracles  of  our  Lord;  Cana  mar- 
riage feast,  i.  161.  The  sick  youth 
at  Capernaum,  183.  Healing  of 
lepers  and  sick  men,  205,  206,  212. 
The  withered  hand,  218.  Centu- 
rion's servant,  223.  Raising  the 
widow's  son,  224.  Jairus's  daugh- 
ter, 233.  Feeding  the  multitude, 
235.  Deaf  and  dumb  restored,  247. 
Blind  men  healed,  261-263.  Rais- 
ing of  Lazarus,  274. 

Mischna  of  the  Jews,  ii.  22. 

MisoPoGON,  the,  Julian's  apology  for 
his  beard,  iii.  15,  17,  18,  notes.  Its 
style,  29. 

MissoN  the  traveller,  erroneous  in- 
ferences of,  iii.  389  note. 

MiTHRA,  human  sacrifices  offered  to, 
i.  35  note;  iii.  21.  The  mysteries 
carried  into  the  Roman  provinces, 
i.  49.     His  dwelling-place,  ii.  265. 

—  Seeii.  99,  188,  271,  283. 
Mixis,  consort  of  Buthios  in  the  Val- 

entinian  system,  ii.  74. 

Mobeds  of  Magianism,  ii.  255. 

MoDESTUs's  threats  to,  and  surprise 
at  the  intrepid  reply  of,  Basil,  iii.  50. 

Mohammed  and  Mohammedanism; 
notions  borrowed  from  the  Jews,  i. 
74  note.  Sanctity  of  Abraham  in 
the  Koran,  ii.  181.  The  cave  of 
Hira,  268.  Hatred  for  Manicheism 
277.  Progress  of  Mohammedanism, 
314 ;  iii.  175.    His  colHn,  iii.  79  note. 

—  Seeii.  35,  39,263,353. 
Moloch,  womhip  of,  i.  70.    Brutal 

human  sacrifices  under  Elagabalus, 
ii.  179. 


MoNACHiSM  and  monastic  institu- 
tions, ii.  48.  Their  growth  under 
Basil,  iii.  113,  114.  Upheld  by 
Chrysostom,  125-131.  Jerome  their 
great  promoter,  195,  198.  Their 
origin,  200,  201.  Causes  which 
tended  to  their  promotion,  203-206. 
Inherent  dangers  of  the  sy.stem, 
216.  Its  general  effects  on  atiairs 
religious  and  politic;il,  219-221. 
Some  of  its  advantages,  221-223. 
Its  effects  on  the  maintenance  of 
Christianitv,  on  the  clergy,  and  in 
the  promotion,  223-22i).  —  See  Cmn- 
obitism ;   Monks. 

Monad,  the ;  the  first  father,  and  his 
various  names  and  attributes  in  the 
Gnostic  systems,  ii.  73,  84,  86  note. 

MoNAKCHiANiSM  in  the  Church,  ii. 
360  note. 

Monica,  mother  of  St.  Augustine, 
iii.  184.  Her  distress  at  his  hereti 
cal  leanings,  185. 

Monks  of  Egypt,  ancestry  of  the,  ii. 
45.  Pressed  into  military  service, 
iii.  52  note.  Their  activity  in  the 
destruction  of  Pagan  idols  and  tem- 
ples, 68.  Edicts  and  popular  out- 
rages against  them,  125.  Their 
numbers,  214.  —  See  Ccenobitism  ; 
3fvnachis/n. 

MoNTANiSM  the  last  important  modi- 
fication of  Christianity  during  the 
second  century,  ii.  90.  Point  of 
union  between  it  and  African  Chris- 
tianity, 164.  Its  extra-Gnostic  aus- 
terity and  notions  of  marriage,  164, 
165.  Nature  of  Montanist  enthusi- 
asm, 165,  166.  Heresy  charged  on 
Montanus,  166.  Perpetua  animated 
by  its  spirit,  170. 

MoNTFAUCON,  illustrative  references 
to,  ii.  404  note;  iii.  248,  280,  321, 
340,  341,  397,  422,  notes. 

MooN-woKSHip,  i.  70;  ii.  336. 

Moor.s,  Spain  devasfated  by  the,  ii. 
136.     Their  incursions,  163. 

Morality,  consequences  of  the  di- 
vorce of  Christianity  from,  iii.  414. 

Moriah,  Mount,  expected  appear- 
ance of  the  Alessiah  in  the  temple 
on,  i.  84.  Its  Samaritan  rival,  178. 
Frustration  of  Julian's  attempt  to 
rebuild  the  temple,  iii.  26-28. 

Mosaic  institutes  and  laws;  on  mar- 
riage, i.  107  note.  Platonism  grafted 
thereon,  ii.  45.  Laws  on  the  rela- 
tions of  the  sexes  adopted  by  the 
Christian  Church,  ii.  400;  iii.  298. 
—  See  i.  426,  429,  430,  459.  — See 
Law. 


INDEX. 


483 


Mosaic  theocracy,  great  principle  of 
the,  i.  199,  200,  250. 

Moses  and  the  Messiah,  i.  89  note.  — 
See  ii.  41,  45,  181,  310. 

MosHEiM,  quotations  from,  and  ref- 
erences to,  i.  75,  85,  112,  368,  notes; 
ii.  18,  20,  59,  67,  85,  notes;  iii.  268, 
366,  notes.- 

SIouxT  of  Olives  and  Mount  Olivet, 
i.  292,  332,  411;  ii.  351. 

Mucius  the  abbot,  inhuman  asceti- 
cism of,  iii.  215-216  note. 

MtJLLER,  Max,  views  supported  by 
the  language-studies  of,  i.  17  note, 
22  note. 

MiJLLER,  "De  Genio,  &c.,  My\  Theo- 
dosiani,"'  and  other  works;  citations 
from,  and  references  to,  iii.  248,  249, 
252,  330,  336,  338,  342,  344,  366, 
notes. 

MuMMius,  destroyer  of  Corinth,  i.  407 
note.1  453  note. 

MuMTEK  on  the  forms  of  the  cross, 
and  other  topics  connected  with 
early  Christian  art,  iii.  386,  388, 
389,  394,  397,  401,  403,  notes. 

MuRSA,  battle  of,  consequences  of  the, 
ii.  425. 

Muses,  the,  ii.  339;  iii.  11. 

Music  in  the  church,  Ambrose's  care 
for,  iii.  166.     Its  gi-owth,  406-410. 

MusoNius  silenced  by  Julian,  iii.  12. 

Mylitta,  Syrian  deity,  principle  of 
the  worship  of,  i.  70. 

Mysteries,  the  last  hope  of  the  old 
religions,  i.  39.  Sources  of  their 
influence;  their  nature  and  objects, 
39,40.  —  SeeEleusis;  Magic. 

Mythology,  growth  of,  i.  22.  —  See 
Polytheism. 

N. 

Naassenes,  worshippers  of  the  Ser- 
pent, principle  of  their  worship,  ii. 
86  note. 

Nahardea,  schools  of  learning  in, 
ii.  253. 

Nahash,  strange  derivation  of  vaog 
from,  86  note. 

Nain,  raising  of  the  widow's  son  at, 
i.  224. 

N  ART  HEX,  class  of  worshippers  lim- 
ited to  the,  ii.  348;  iii.  315. 

Nathanael,  or  Bartholomew,  the 
apostle,  removal  by  Jesus  of  the 
doubts  of,  i.  160.  His  character  and 
social  position,  160,  222.  His  end 
unrecorded,  398. 

Nations  self-raised  from  savage  life, 
theories  regarding,  i.  17  note. 


Natural  Philosophy,  causes  tending 
to  the  discouragement  of,  iii.  422, 
423.  Contempt  of  the  Fathers  for 
its  study,  422  note. 

Nature  "personified  in  the  Diana 
Multimmnma,  ii.  57  note. 

Nature-worship,  its  character  and 
exponents,  i.  20,  21.  Its  form  in 
Persia,  23.  Its  development  in 
Greece,  24.  Rites  under  which  it 
had  survived,  39.  What  it  taught, 
40.  Phases  of  the  doctrine  of  the 
immortality  of  the  soul  under  it,  53. 
Form  of  it,  set^^up  by  Elagabalus, 
ii.  177.  Ptcpresentative  of  it  semi- 
deified  by  Alexander  Severus,  181. 
Temples  in  the  East,  252.  Form 
adhered  to  by  Tiridates,  261. 

Naudet's  essay  on  Julian's  educa- 
tional system,  iii.  10  note. 

Nave  of  the  church,  origin  of  the 
word,  ii.  347. 

Nazarenes,  Neander's  chapter  on 
the,  ii.  56  note. 

Nazareth,  proverbial  disrepute  of, 
i.  99,  164.  Reception  and  treat- 
ment of  Jesus  by  its  people,  184- 
186. 

Neandee,  i.  42  note,  45  note.  On 
Christ's  birth,  112  note.  Character 
of  his  great  work,  123.  Theory 
supported  by  him,  ii.  20  iiote.  On 
Gnosticism,  48  note.  His  low  esti- 
mate of  Simon  Magus,  55  note.  His 
chapter  on  the  Ebionites,  56  note. 
His  view  of  Marcion,  83  Jiote. 

Neapolis,  Paul's  first  European  land- 
ing-place, i.  406. 

Neduchadnezzar,  i.  72  note.  Holj-- 
things  concealed  on  his  destruction 
of  the  Temple,  158. 

Necessity,  Stoic  doctrine  of,  i.  452. 

Necromantic  arts,  an  imperial  dab- 
bler in,  iii.  40.  —  See  Divination ; 
Magic. 

Nectarius,  Bishop  of  Constantinople, 
sumptuous  style  of,  iii.  135. 

Nehemiah,  remigration  of  the  Jews 
under,  i.  67. 

Neptune,  temple  of,  at  Corinth,  i.  454 
note. 

Nergal-siiarezer,  the  archimagus, 
i.  72  note. 

Nero  degrades  Pallas,  and  subse- 
quently poisons  him,  i.  416  note. 
Burning  of  Rome  and  persecution 
of  the  Christians,  466,  470  note,  476 
note;  ii.  8,  12.  His  expected  re- 
appearance as  antichrist,  i.  470  note  ; 
ii.  126  note,  127.  His  visit  to  Cor- 
inth and  representative  at  Rome,  i. 


484 


INDEX. 


473,  474,  477.— See  Rome.  State 
of  Christianity  during  his  reign,  ii. 
8,  9.  Influence  of  a  Jewish  player 
over  him,  i.  470  note;  ii.  100.  The 
matricide,  128.  His  theatrical  ex- 
hibitions, 155.  Altered  destination 
of  the  materials  of  his  circus,  29y. 

—  See  ii.  93,  107,  131,  327,  327  note, 
333. 

Nerva,  first  act  of  the  reign  of,  ii. 

17.    A  supplementary  Csesar,  125. 
Nestorian  Christianity,  i.  103  note ; 

ii.  35.     Effect  of  persecution,  257. 

—  See  ii.  35  note;  iii.  107. 
Neuman's  Vartau,  curious  sentence 

in,  i.  74  note. 

New  Testament,  peculiarity  of,  ac- 
cepted by  Marcion,  ii.  hi.  Its  origi- 
nal Greek,  ii.  356.  —  See  Evangel- 
ists; Gosjjels. 

Nic.EA,  Council  of,  ii.  322  note.  Oc- 
casion of  its  being  called,  324,  331, 
354,368.  The  meeting,  369.  Num- 
ber of  church  dignitaries  present, 
367.  Part  taken  by  Constantine, 
371.  Duration  and  result  of  the 
sittings,  372.  Its  canon  relative  to 
Mulieres  subintroductce,  iii.  288  note 
The  Easter  question,  422  note. — 
See  iii.  59,  272  note,  282. 

tfiCENE  Creed,  approach  of  Mani's 
system  to  the,  ii.  265,  271.  \Yord 
in  the  original  which  gave  rise  to 
centuries  of  hostility,  372,  373. 
Sense  in  which  Eusebius  of  Csesarea 
explained  it,  374,  375.  Arius's  con- 
tumacy and  subsequent  acceptance 
of  it,  375,  385.  Explanation  and 
recall  of  the  recusant  bishops,  376, 
377.  —  See  Trinitarian  Gmtroversy. 

t^TiCETAS,  treatment  of  Polycarp  by, 
ii.  140. 

NicoDEMUS's  visit  to  Jesus,  and  its 
result,  i.  171-174,  210.  His  appeal 
to  the  Sanliedrin  in  his  behalf, 
257.     Accusation  against  him,  ibid. 

NicoDEMus,  Gospel  of,  its  source,  iii. 
364. 

NicoLAiTANS,  opponents  of  St.  John, 
ii.  58.     Their  origin,  58  note. 

Nicolas,  story  told  of,  and  derivation 
of  the  name,  ii.  58,  59  note. 

NicoMEDiA,  ii.  210.  Selected  for  his 
court  by  Diocletian,  211,  246.  Im- 
portance of  its  bishops  and  its 
church,  213.  First  result  of  the 
edict  of  persecution,  220.  Fate  of 
the  Christian  who  tore  down  the 
edict,  221,  222.  Mysterious  burn- 
ing of  the  palace,  and  recrimina- 
tions concerning  it,  222.     Whole- 


sale cruelties  and  martyi-doms,  223, 
224.  Keception  of  Maximin,  236. 
Its  metropolitan  deposed,  iii.  269 
note.  — See  ii.  225,  248;  iii.  49. 

NicoFOLis  visited  by  St.  Pail,  i.  472. 

NiEBUiiR,  theory  of  savage  life  con- 
troverted by,  i.  17  note.  His  discov- 
ery of  the  poems  of  Merobaudes,  iii. 
lUO  note.  —  See  ii.  404,  4u5  note. 

Niger,  a  competitor  of  Severus,  refu- 
sal of  the  Christians  to  aid  the  cause 
of,  ii.  110,  1.38,  159. 

Nile,  the,  ii.  45,  124,  368.  Identity 
of  Serapis  with  the  river,  iii.  72,  79. 
Place  of  custody  for  the  Nilome- 
ter,  79. 

Nino,  effect  on  the  Iberians  of  the 
holy  life  of,  ii.  407.  Occasion  of 
her  conversion  of  their  queen,  ibid. 
Cross  erected  by  her,  and  miracles 
attributed  to  her  prayers,  408. 

NiTRiA,  coenobitic  population  (rf  the 
desert  of,  iii.  214. 

NoETUs,  heresy  of,  and  epithet  given 
to  his  followers,  ii.  360. 

NoLA,  early  paintings  in  the  church 
of,  iii,  405. 

NovATiANUs  and  the  Novatian  here- 
sy, ii.  193  note;  iii.  272  7iote. 

Nubia,  subject  of  a  monumental  in- 
scription found  in,  ii.  404,  7iote  3. 
Conversion  of  its  tribes  by  Frumen- 
tius,  405. 

NuMA,  instance  of  wisdom  in,  i.  46. 
Numa  the  Second,  ii.  129. 

Numerian's  murder,  Diocletian's  ex- 
culpatory appeal  relative  to,  ii.  215. 

NuMiDiA,  influence  of  the  Donatists 
in,  ii.  314. 

NuMiDicus  and  his  wife,  martyrdom 
of,  iii.  282. 

Nunc  Dimittis,  early  sung  in  the 
Church,  iii.  359,  407,  408. 


o. 


Octavius,  human  sacrifice  ascribed 
to,  i.  34  note.  —  See  Minucius  Fe- 
lix. 

Odin,  character  of  the  heaven  of,  . 
53  note. 

OicuMENicAL  council,  the  first,  iii. 
272  note. 

(Euii'ODEAN  weddings,  ii.  149. 

Ogdoads  of  Bardesanes,  ii.  79. 

Old  Testament,  proscribed  by  the 
Gnostics,  ii.  63,  81.  The  work  of 
inferior  angels,  84.  Its  God  an 
evil  spiri  t,  264.  Its  spirit  beginning 
to  dominate  over  the  gospel,  301. 


INDEX. 


485 


Its  authority  cited  as  a  justification 
for  massacre,  310. 

Olives.  —  See  Mount  of  Olives. 

Olybii.  Christianity  embraced  by 
the,  iii.  96. 

Olybius,  Prefect  of  Rome,  iii.  40. 

Olybkius,  head  of  Christ  on  the  sar- 
cophagus of,  iii.  397. 

Olympia,  iii.  81. 

Olympias  praised  for  her  incurable 
disea-es,  iii.  151  note. 

0LY3IPIC  games,  iii.  340. 

(JLYMPUS  concentrated  into  one  su- 
preme ruler,  ii.  339. 

Olympus,  the  philosopher,  excites  an 
insurrection  for  the  preservation  of 
Paganism,  iii.  75,  76.  His  prudent 
flight,  70. 

Onager,  the  "  wild  ass,"  confession 
of,  ii.  424. 

Onesiphokus,  Paul  befriended  by, 
i.  472. 

Ophites,  or  serpent-worshippers,  re- 
ligious system  of  the,  ii.  bo.  Ob- 
ject of  Mosheim's  dissertation,  85 
note.  Speculations  on  this  and  cog- 
nate systems,  86,  87  notes. 

Optatus,  bishop,  why  blamed  with 
regard  to  some  martyrs,  ii.  173. 
Value  of  his  works  as  a  record  of 
the  Donatist  controversy,  302  note. 
References  to  and  citations  from 
same,  306,  310,  313,  314  notes. 

Optatus,  Pagan  prefect,  Chrysos- 
tom's  enemy,  iii.  141,  253. 

Oracles,  human  sacrifices  com- 
manded by  i.  34  note.  Sibylline 
oracles,  ii.  121,  123.  Of  Apollo, 
see  Apollo.  Answer  to  Maxentius, 
ii.  287.  Touching  Byzantium,  339 
note.     Delphi  and  Dodona,  iii.  39. 

Orations  of  the  Fathers,  their  place 
in  Christian  literature,  iii.  375. 

Oratory,  decay  in  Rome  of,  iii.  370, 
371.  Its  revival  and  power  in  the 
pulpit,  371-374. 

Orgiasts  of  Phrygia,  i.  444.  Nature 
of  the  Orgiasm,  ii.  165. 

Orientalism,  influence  on  Chris- 
tianity of,  ii.  34,  35.  Community 
of  principles  and  tendency  ot  ideas, 
expressed  by  the  term,  36.  Its 
gen:ral  character,  37.  Its  elemen- 
tary- prii  ciple  and  primary  tenet, 
38.  Ascvticism  and  celibacy,  39- 
41.  Its  pi'ogress  in  Western  Asia, 
and  union  with  Christianity,  45-48. 
Scsne  of  their  first  collision,  57,  58. 
Result  of  their  combination  and  ul- 
timate re-action,  61,  90.  Mani's 
borrowings  from  it,  264.  —  See  Ce- 


rinthus;  Gnosticism;  Mani;  Simon 
Magus. 

Origen,  illustrative  passage  from,  i. 
80  note.  His  answer  to  a  Jewish 
invention,  117  note.  Phlegonic  pas- 
sage discarded  by  him,  346  note. 
Writings  ivTongly  ascribed  to  him, 
ii.  48  note.  His  sarcastic  interpreta- 
tion of  "Ebion,"  56  note.  How 
prevented  from  sharing  his  father's 
martyrdom,  161  note.  Sole  laborer 
left  in  a  persecuted  region,  162.  De 
Broglie's  contrast  between  him  and 
TertuUian,  167  note.  An  imperial 
Roman  lady  exhorted  by  him,  180. 
His  controversv  with  Celsus,  185; 
iii.  283  7iote,  36''7,  391,  392  7iote,  393 
note.  Torments  inflicted  on  him, 
ii.  192.  Opponent  of  his  Platonic 
mode  of  arguing,  448  note.  His 
notion  of  the  Deitj'  anathematized, 
iii.  108.  Experiments  of  his  follow- 
ers upon  the  Gospels,  322.  Charge 
against  Bishop  Demetrius  relative 
to  him,  372  note.  On  the  Saviour's 
personal  aspect,  391.  —  See  i.  435 ; 
iii.  425  note. 

Orleans,  amusements  condemned  by 
the  Council  of,  iii.  332. 

Ormuzd,  Oromazd,  or  Aramazd,  the 
good  principle  of  the  Persian  sys- 
tem, i.  81  note,  84,  114.  Erdivraph's 
revelation  from  him,  ii.  255.  An- 
tagonism between  his  followers  and 
those  of  Ahriman,  256.  Armenian 
form  of  worship  at  his  altars,  261. 
His  relationship  to  the  primal  man, 
269  —  See  Aramazd. 

Orosius,  citations  from,  iii.  78  note., 
189  note. 

Orpheus  deified  by  Alexander  Seve- 
rus,  ii.  181.  —  See  iii.  7. 

OsiKis  and  Isis,  —  Sun  and  Earth, — 
dualism  of,  i.  20,  21.  —  See  Isis. 

Osius,  Bishop  of  Cordova,  complaint 
against,  ii.  309.  —  See  Eosius. 

Ostrogoths,  iii.  61.  —  See  Goths. 

OuM,  the  deity  of  the  Indians,  virtue 
of  the  name  of,  i.  459  note. 

Ovid's  Fasti,  and  the  religion  of  the 
Romans,  i.  26  note.  His  description 
of  Majestas,  28  note.  On  the  moral 
effect  of  ablutions,  144  note.  Per- 
sonal character  of  his  poetry,  iii. 
115. 


Pachomius,  founder  of  coenobitic  in- 
stitutions in  Egypt,  iii.  213.  _  Num- 
ber of  monks  under  him,  ibid,  note* 


486 


INDEX. 


PEDERASTY,  Clhristian  dealing  with 
the  crime  of,  ii.  402. 

Paganism,  conciliatory  attitude  of 
the  Gnostics  towards,  ii.  88.  Call 
on  the  Pagans  by  the  best  Pagan 
emperor,  113,  114.  Condemned  by 
its  own  prophets,  123-127.  A  time 
of  triumph,  162.  Effect  of  Elaga- 
balus's  vagaries  upon  it,  179. 
Change  in  its  tone,  186.  New 
philosophic  Paganism,  188, 189, 214, 
215,  296.  Its  approaching  final 
contest  with  Christianity,  207. 
Maximin's  measures  for  its  re-or- 
ganization, their  failm-e,  and  his 
revenge,  235,  236,  241.  Blessings 
ascribed  to  its  gods,  237.  Uniform 
conduct  of  Roman  prefects  with  re- 
gard to  it,  2b2.  iMaxentius's  deal- 
ings with  it,  285-288.  Battle  which 
decided  its  fate.  293,  316  View 
taken  by  its  followers  of  a  Christian 
emperor's  crimes,  329,  33u  note^  331- 
333.  Consideration  shown  to  it 
and  its  deities  in  the  founding  of 
Constantinople,  337-341,  344.  Ex- 
tent of  interference  at  that  time 
with  its  worship,  and  of  subsequent 
laws  for  its  suppression,  349,  389- 
393, 395.  Miscalculations  of  Pagans 
relative  to  Christi-in  schisms,  363. 
Why  they  would  hallow  Sunday, 
897.  Their  deification  of  the  first 
Christian  emperor,  404.  Julian's 
declaration  in  its  favor;  scheme  for 
its  re-establishment,  and  persecu- 
tions towards  that  end,  453,  456, 
457,  465,  468-478;  iii.  10,  13-15,  16- 
20,  24,  26,  28,  30.  Efiect  of  JuUan's 
premature  death,  34,  35.  Homage 
of  its  historian  to  Valentinian's 
toleration,  36.  His  cruid  treatment 
of  its  practisers  of  divination  and 
magic,  37-44.  The  like  by  Valens, 
44-46.  Dragging  out  its  existence, 
48.  Result  of  Thendosius's  deter- 
mination to  extirpate  it,  65,  66,  70, 
71,  74-81,  94-96.  Rome  its  last 
refuge,  82,  83.  Its  last  deified  fol- 
lower, 85.  Symmachus's  appeal 
for  its  preservation,  90,  91.  A  gleam 
of  hope,  93.  Suppressive  edict  of 
Honorius,  98.  Gothic  consumma- 
tion of  its  ruin,  100-102.  —  See  ii. 
93,  95,  115,  117,  146,  156,  166,  181, 
185,  191,  204,  214, '223,  242,  252, 
263,  264,  282,  289,  301,  334,  343; 
iii.  64,  243,  411.  See  also  Heathen- 
ism ;  Pagan  Temples ;  Polytheism. 

Pagan  sculpture,  iii.  382-384.  —  See 
Greece. 


Pagan  temples  in  Byzantium,  ii.  336. 
Why  generally  unsuitable  for  Chris- 
tian worship,  344-346.  Why  sup- 
pressed in  Syria,  349;  iii.  71.  Ruins 
at  Gerasa,  Petra,  and  Baalbec,  ii. 
350.  Shut  up  by  Constantine,  389. 
Respect  ordered  to  be  paid  to  them, 
ii.  476,  iii.  37.  Alienation  of  their 
revenues,  iii.  69,  88.  Temples  in 
Antioch,  ibid.  Libanius's  oration 
"  For  the  Temples,"  70.  Consecra- 
tion of  some  to  Christian  v/orship, 
71,  101  note.  Their  destruction  un- 
der Theodosius,  77-81.  Number 
then  in  Rome,  83. 

Pagi's  chronology;  his  date  of  Igna- 
tius's  martyrdom,  ii.  95  note.  A 
probable  conjecture  of  his,  101  note. 
On  the  "  Discipliua  Arcani,"  iii.  322 
note. 

Painting  enlisted  into  Christian  ser- 
vice, iii.  384.  Gnostic  paintings, 
394,  395.  Christian  paintings,  of 
the  Saviour,  396.  Of  the  Father, 
397.  Of  the  Virgin,  398,  399.  Of 
the  apostles,  4U0,  401.  Late  date 
of  representations  of  martyrdoms, 
401.  The  Nola  paintings,  405. 
Mani's  paintings,  ii.  266. 

Palatine  Hill,  Sun-temple  erected 
by  El  igabalus  on  the,  ii.  177,  179. 

Palatini  interdicted  from  exhibiting 
as  gladiators,  iii.  349. 

Palestine,  i.  66,  67.  Apprehended 
march  of  the  Babylonian  Jews  upon, 
68.  Controversy  relative  to  Augus- 
tus's census  of  its  people,  108,  109. 
Favorable  site  for  a  new  religion, 
ii.  35,  36.  Plerodian  innovation 
resisted  by  its  people,  99.  Permis- 
sive existence  of  Judaism  under 
Hadrian,  253.  Taken  possession 
of  by  the  Christians,  349,  350. 
Erection  of  churches  on  the  holy 
sites,  351-353.  Last  abiding  place 
of  the  Ebionites,  359.  —  See  ii.  34, 
39,  41,  57,  99.     See  Holy  Land. 


Palev's  explanation  of  a  clu-onologi- 
It^ 

mite. 


cal  difficulty,  i.  108  nole.  ~  See  22J 


Palilia,  Italian  rural  rites,  i.  26  nole. 

Palladium,  the,  ii.  125,  177.  Trans- 
ported to  Constantinople,  ?il. 

Palladius,  pagan  prefect,  Christian 
ofiice  delegated  to,  iii.  48. 

Palladius,  life  of  Chrysostom  by,  iii. 
122  note. 

Pallas,  Felix's  brother,  patronized 
and  subsequently  poisoned  by  Nero, 
i.  416  note. 

Palmyra,  Paul  of  Samosata's  reli 


INDEX. 


487 


gious  project  for,  ii.  204._ —  See  iii. 
70.     Its  queen,  see  Zenobia. 

Pajimachius,  why  ott'ended  by  Je- 
rome, iii.  240. 

Pan's  statue  transported  to  Constan- 
tinople, ii.  339. 

Pantheisji  of  India,  i.  71;  ii.  87. 
Paniueisno  Deity,  see  Sevapis. 

Pantheon  of  Rome,  constituents  of 
the,  1.  14.  Juhan's  Pantheon,  ii. 
409. 

Pantomimes,  Theodoric,  a  supporter 
of,  iii.  337  note.  —  >ee  Minnas. 

Papal  autliority  and  pontifical  do- 
minion, growth  at  Rome  of,  ii.  334, 
335,  394,  445,  446.  —  See  Pontiff. 

Pafhnutius,  marriage  eulogized  in 
a  single  word  by,  iii.  2b2. 

Paphos,  i.  400.  Rites  for  which  it 
was  renowned,  ibid.  405  note. 

Pai'IA  Poppajan  law  against  celibacy, 
ii.  403. 

Parables  of  Jesus,  the  leaven  and 
the  grain  of  mustard,  i.  191  nittt. 
The  good  Samaritan,  270  nott^  284. 
The  lord  of  the  vineyard,  and  the 
marriage-feast,  298. 

Paraclete,  Gnostic  attributes  of  the, 
ii.  7t).  In  iMontanism,  166.  In 
Mani's  system,  265. 

Paradise' of  Mohammed,  i.  301. 

Parthenon,  the,  period  up  to  which 
it  was  entire,  iii.  81  note. 

Parthia,  ii.  35,  102.  Pestilence 
brought  thence  by  the  imperial 
army,  131,  132,  135,  136.  Religion 
of  i's  natives  ;  influence  of  the 
Magian  priests,  252.  Apostolic  la- 
bors of  St.  Thomas  and  St.  Peter, 
252,  253.  Tolerance  of  its  kings, 
257  note.  —  See  257,  258. 

Paschal,  Pope,  legend  of  the  removal 
of  a  .saint's  remains  by,  ii   106  note. 

Pasiphilus,  fortitude  'under  torture 
of,  iii.  46. 

Passover,  the,  and  periodical  assem- 
blage of  the  Jews  thereat,  i.  164, 
209  note.  Josephus's  calculation 
of  their  numbers,  278.  Customary 
hospitalities  during  the  festival,  315 
note.  Custom  relative  to  the  release 
of  criminals,  336.  —  See  253. 

Patjios,  sojourn  and  composition  by 
St.  John  of  the  Revelations  at,  ii. 
18. 

Patriarchs  of  Holy  "Writ,  beatitude 
of  the,  i.  302. 

Patriarchs  of  the  East,  ecclesiastical 
powers  claimed  by  the,  iii.  268. 

Patricius  of  Lydia,  unpardonable 
ofi'ence  charged  on,  iii.  45. 


Patripassians,  heresy  of  the,  ii.  360. 

Paul,  the  fanatic  chief,  St.  Paul  con- 
founded with,  i.  411. 

Paul,  St.,  the  apostle,  and  his  teacher, 
i.  372,  379.  His  origin,  mental  quali- 
fications, and  persecuting  career  as 
Saul  of  Tarsus,  379,  380.  Revela- 
tion of  his  conversion  to  Ananias, 
381.  Reluctance  of  the  Christians 
to  admit  him  among  them,  382,  384. 
Obscurity  of  his  early  career  as  a 
Christian,  3S2.  His  .sojourn  in 
Arabia  and  escape  from  his  Jewish 
persecutors  there,  383,  384.  Pecu- 
liar service  for  which  he  was  quali- 
fied; new  conspiracy  against  him, 
384.  Period  of  the  arrival  of  him- 
self and  Barnabas  at  Jeru.~alem, 
386.  Fact  in  Christianity  indicated 
by  their  enrolment  in  the  apostolic 
body,  392,  397.  Occasion  of  his 
protection  from  the  Jews  by  the 
Roman  guards,  396.  Summoned 
by  Barnabas  to  Antioch,  3y7.  Point 
of  time  from  which  his  apostolic 
predominance  dates,  ibid.  Recep- 
tion of  himself  and  Barnabas  in 
Cyprus,  399,  443.  Their  expulsion 
from  Antioch  in  Pisidia,  and  iU 
treatment  at  Lystra,  402,  403,  443, 
444  Himself  and  Barnabas  at  the 
Council  of  Jerusalem,  403.  His 
Second  Journey.,  405.  Separates 
from  Barnabas  and  extends  his 
journey  into  Eunpe,  406.  His 
trade,  408  text  and  note.  His  prose- 
lytizing labors  at  Corinth,  408,  453- 
456.  Locality  of  the  composition 
of  his  Epistle  to  the  Thessalonians, 
409  note.  His  Third  Journey; 
circuit  taken,  409.  His  motive 
in  visiting  Jerusalem;  outrage  in- 
flicted on  him  there,  410,  411. 
Error  regarding  him  entertained 
by  Lysias,  411.  His  harangue  to 
the  Jewish  multitude;  privilege 
which  saved  him  from  the  scourge, 

412.  Cited  before  the  Sanhedrin, 

413.  Insult  put  upon  him  ;  his 
indignant  retort  upon  the  high- 
priest,  414.  Designs  against  his 
life,  415,  416.  His  successful  de- 
fence before  Felix,,  and  imprison- 
ment in  C«sarea,  415,  416.  Before 
Festus  and  Agrippa  ;  impression 
made  by  him  upon  the  latter,  417. 
His  departure  for  Rome,  ibid.  Ju- 
daic exclusiveness  against  which, 
his  exertions  were  directed,  426. 
Scope  of  his  epistles  to  the  Gala- 
tians  and  to  the  Romans,  426-429. 


488 


mDEX. 


Inference  deducible  from  his  jour- 
ney to  Spain,  428  note.  Judseo- 
Christian  sect  by  whom  his  writings 
were  rejected,  433.  Himself  and 
Barnabas  regarded  as  Heathen  dei- 
ties, 444.  His  reception  in  Phrygia, 
Galatia,.  and  Macedonia,  444,  445. 
At  Fhilippi;  his  imprisonment  and 
iis  supernatural  accompaniments, 
445-447.  His  reception  at  Athens 
and  oration  to  its  citizens,  448-453. 
Forged  coi-respondence  between 
himself  and  Seneca,  456  note.  His 
journey  to  Ephesus  and  length  of 
stay  there,  456-458.  His  miracles 
and  Jewish  ascription  of  their  cause, 
459.  Effect  of  his  teachings  on 
the  Jewish  exorcists  and  Ephesian 
shrine-makers,  460,  461.  His  sub- 
sequent course  and  last  interview 
with   his   Ephesian   brethren,   462, 

463.  Incident  of  the  viper  on  his 
hand  in  Melita,  464.  His  arrival 
in   Rome    and    proceedings    there, 

464,  465.  Break-off  of  the  Scrip- 
ture record  of  his  acts,  466  note. 
Probability  of  his  having  visited 
Spain,  470,  471.  Question  of  his 
visit  to  Britain,  470  note.  Evidences 
of  the  extent  of  his  journeyings  and 

frandeur  of  their  results,  472,  473. 
eriod  assigned  as  that  of  his  mar- 
tyrdom, 473.  His  own  presenti- 
ments of  his  approaching  end,  ibid. 
Coincidence  of  fact  and  tradition  as 
to  his  martyrdom,  474.  Site  and 
manner  of  his  death,  477,  478. 
Embellishments  of  the  story,  478. 
Disputed  questions  regarding  his 
epistles,  imprisonments  in  Rome, 
date  of  his  death,  &c.,  479-485. 
Length  of  his  residence  at  Corinth 
and  Ephesus,  ii.  25  note.  Extent 
of  the  recognition  of  his  authority, 
30.  His  alleged  marriage,  41  note. 
Difference  between  his  spirit  and 
that  of  later  martyrs,  106,  197  note. 
Disregard  of  his  warning,  237. 
Mani's  notion  of  his  writings,  266. 
Early  portraits  of  him,  iii.  400,  401. 

Paul  of  Samosata,  Bishop  of  Antioch, 
character  and  religious  project  of, 
ii.  203,  204.  His  pride,  magnifi- 
cence, and  church  extravagances, 
204.  His  defiance  of  the  synod 
and  ultimate  degradation,  206."  Ef- 
fect of  his  musical  innovations,  iii. 
408.  — See  ii.  372  note;  iii.  272,  287 
note. 

Paul,  a  candidate  for  the  see  of  Con- 
stantinople,  Eusebius's    death-bed 


recommendation  of,  ii.  412  note. 
Bloody  result  of  an  attempt  to 
fbrce  him  from  his  church,  419. 
His  expulsion  and  retirement,  420. 
Acquitted  of  the  charges  against 
him,  421.  Again  expelled  and  ill- 
treated;  suspicions  as  to  his  death, 
426. 

Paul  and  Macurius,  defeat  of  the 
Circumcellions  by,  ii.  314. 

Paula,  Jerome's  favorite,  sample  of  a 
letter  of,  iii.  197  note.  Her  un- 
charitable charity,  236.  Jerome's 
eulogium  on  her,  236  note. 

Paulinus,  biographer  of  Ambrose,  iii. 
156  note,  161  note. 

Paulimus,  Bishop  of  Antioch,  Aetius 
an  attache  of,  ii.  448. 

Paulinus,  the  consul,  ii.  391  note. 

Pauhnus,  St.,  of  Nola,  illustrative 
citations  from  poems  of,  iii  332 
note.,  403  note,  408  note.  His  verses 
on  the  paintings  in  his  church,  404, 
405  notes.  His  poetic  celebration 
of  the  nativity  of  St.  Felix,  427 
note.  Incendiary  miracle  ascribed 
by  him  to  St.  Felix,  428  note. 

Pausanlvs,  points  of  belief  disclaimed 
by,  i.  46. 

Peakson  on  St.  Paul's  presence  in 
Rome,  i.  475  note.  References  to 
his  work  on  the  Creed,  i.  159  note; 
iii.  393-394  note. 

Pedo,  consul,  killed  by  an  earth- 
quake, ii.  105. 

Peel,  late  Sir  Robert,  on  human  sac- 
rifices under  the  Romans,  i.  35  note. 

Pelaglvnism,  iii.  107,  178,  178  note, 
181.  Character  and  doctrines  of 
Pelagius,  181,  182  notes. 

Pella,  refuge  of  the  forewarned 
Christians  at,  i.  421,  433. 

Penance  of  Theodosius,  Christian 
principle  asserted  in  the,  iii.  171. 
Penitential  discipline  of  the  church, 
298-300.  Places  in  the  church  as- 
signed to  the  various  classes  of 
penitents,  315,  316. 

Penates,  guardians  of  the  Pagan's 
hearth,  i.  439;  ii.  337. 

Penitentlvl  discipUne.  —  See  Peii- 
ance. 

Pentecost,  i.  247,  253,  361,  362. 
Miracle  cf  fiery  tongues,  364-366. 
Paul's  appearance  at  the  feast,  409. 

Peuat.e,  predominant  feature  of  the 
doctrines  of  the,  ii   86  note. 

Perdition,  Augustinian  notion  of,  iii. 
180. 

Perpetua,  Vivia,  martyrdom  of,  ii. 
168,  169-173,  174, 175. 


INDEX. 


489 


Persecution,  its  effect  on  the  Afri- 
can Christians,  ii.  303.  Persecutions 
of  the  Christians  under  the  Roman 
emperors,  see  Aurelian;  Decius: 
Diocletian  ;  Domitian  ;  Gnlerius  ; 
Julian  ;  Marcus  Aurelius  ;  Max- 
imian ;  Maximm ;  Nero  ;  Trajan ; 
Valerian.  See  also  Christianity; 
Martyrdom. 

Persia,  form  of  nature-worship  in,  i. 
23.  Analogy  between  its  tlieism  and 
that  of  the  Jews,  29.  Comparative 
purity  thereof,  71.  The  good  prin- 
ciple of  its  system,  81  note.  Its  idea 
of  a  Messiah,  84  note.  Its  dualistic 
sj'stem,  ii.  37,  263.  Sanctity  of  fire, 
39.  Treatment  of  Valerian  by  its 
rabble,  202.  Revival  of  Zoroas- 
trianism,  251.  Object  of  Ardeschir's 
ambition,  255.  "Barrier  presented 
by  it  to  Christianity,  257.  Priestly 
supporters  of  its  kingly  power,  2.j^. 
Emblematic  feature  of  its  religion 
266.  Its  "  execrable  usages  and 
foolish  laws,"  278.  Julian's  expe- 
dition and  its  result,  iii.  ".^6,  30,  32. 
—  See  ii.  283,  404.  See  Magianism  ; 
Orientalism ;  Zoroastrianism. 

Pestilences  and  plagues  under 
Verus,  ii.  135,  136.  At  Carthage, 
198 ;  iii.  324  note.  Under  Maximin, 
ii.  239.     In  Armenia,  261. 

Peter,  St.,  or  Simon  Peter,  the  apos- 
tle; his  Epistle  and  the  question  of 
the  identity  of  Babylon  and  Rome, 
i.  69  note.  His  origin,  188.  His 
awe  in  the  presence  of  Jesus,  ibid. 
Why  called  Cephas,  221.  Occasion 
of  his  declared  pre-eminence  among 
the  apostles,  249.  His  Master's  pre- 
diction of  his  denial  of  Him,  315. 
Jesus'  restraint  of  his  indignation, 
318.  Admitted  to  the  trial  of  Jesus, 
320.  His  triple  denial  of  his  Master 
and  remorse  therefor,  323,  324.  In- 
vested by  Jesus  with  the  charge  of 
his  Church,  361.  His  first  procla- 
mation of  Christ  crucified  and  ex- 
alted, 366, 367.  Tone  and  substance 
of  his  second  speech,  369.  His  lan- 
guage before  the  Sanhedrin,  372. 
Cast  into  prison  and  supernaturally 
liberated,  386.  Efiect  of  his  vision 
annulling  the  distinction  of  meats, 
392,  393.  His  later  teachings  and 
sphere  of  action,  398, 426.  Question 
of  his  visit  to,  and  foundation  of  the 
Church  of,  Rome,  427  note.  His  al- 
leged martyrdom,  473.  Predomi- 
nance accorded  to  him  in  Rome, 
474.     Sphere  and  share  of  Chris- 


I  tianizing  labors  assigned  to  him, 
474,  475.  The  pro  and  con  of  his 
alleged  settlement  at  Rome,  475,  476 
notes.  Overtures  of  Simon  Magus 
to  him.  and  his  refusal,  ii.  49,  50,  51. 
Records  of  their  contests,  49  note.,  55 
note.  Secret  traditions  ascribed  to 
him,  68.  His  residence  in  Baby- 
lonia, 253.  Chm-ch  dedicated  to 
him  at  Rome,  299.  Claim  of  apos- 
tolic descent  from  him,  iii.  269. 
Assertions  as  to  his  primacy,  269, 
note  3,  270  note.  Early  portraits 
of  him,  400,  401.  —  See  i.  397,  442; 
ii.  68,  313;  iii.  104. 

Ppjter,  Patriarch  of  Alexandria,  put 
to  death,  ii.  236.  — See  iii.  104, 119. 

Petra,  ruins  of  Pagan  temples  at,  ii. 
350;  iii.  70. 

Petrine,  or  ultra-Judaic  party,  ii.  29. 

Petronius,  the  prefect,  why  appre- 
hensive of  a  Jewish  outbreak,  i.  68. 
Eftect  of  his  humane  delays,  385. 

Pharisees,  oath  of  allegiance  refused 
by,  i.  109, 141.  Their  conflicts  with 
the  Sadducees,  141.  Questions  to 
John  framed  by  them,  158.  Region 
in  which  they  predominated,  194, 
195.  Conclusive  argument  with 
them  against  the  claims  of  Jesus, 
201.  The}--  commence  hostilities 
against  Him,  217.  Accuse  Him  of 
working  b}'  evil  spirits,  229.  De- 
mand signs  of  Him,  230.  Points 
of  distinction  between  them  and  the 
Sadducees,  257.  Points  of  union 
between  them,  283.  Their  insidious 
designs  regarding  Jesus,  273.  Their 
practices  and  doctrines  the  subject 
of  his  denunciations  and  rebukes, 
281,  303,  304,  370.  Their  confusion 
on  his  triumphal  entry  into  Jerusa- 
lem, 292.  Their  practice  with  re- 
gard to  capital  punishment,  327 
note.  Tone  of  their  administration 
of  the  law,  372.  St.  Stephen  a  \ac- 
tim  to  their  vengeance,  376.  Their 
phase  of  Christianity,  406.  Influ- 
ence of  belief  in  the  resurrection 
upon  them,  414.  Sectarian  distinc- 
tion and  symbols,  438. 

Phabaton  the  dancer,  iii.  345. 

Ph.edra,  a  Roman  parallel  to,  ii.  328, 
329. 

Pharaoh,  i.  379.  A  word  at  which 
he  trembled,  459.  A  Persian  imi 
tator,  ii  259. 

PiiERORAs's  wife,  fine  paid  for  the 
Pharisees  by,  i.  109. 

Phidias,  sculptures  of,  i.  33,  437;  ii. 
339,  340. 


490 


INDEX. 


Philadelphia.  —  See  PMlomelmm. 

Philip  the  apostle,  summoned  by 
Jesus,  i.  160.  His  abiding-place, 
221. 

Philip  the  deacon,  conversion  of  the 
eunuch  by,  i.  378  text  and  note. 

Philip  the  emperor,  ii.  176  note. 
Refutation  of  his  alleged  conver- 
sion, 189  His  magnificent  celebra- 
tion of  Rome's  millennium,  190. 
Murdered,  191. 

Philip,  King  of  Macedon,  treatment 
of  the  religion  of  conquered  nations 
by,  i.  14  note. 

Philip  the  prefect,  cautious  proceed- 
ings of,  ii.  426.  Suspicion  attach- 
ing to  him  relative  to  Bishop  Paul's 
death,  ibid. 

Philip  II.  of  Spain,  cause  of  the  death 
of,  ii.  230 

Philip,  Herod.  —  See  Herod  Philip. 

Phillippi,  incidents  of  Paul's  mis- 
sion to  and  imprisonment  at,  i.  445- 
447.  Its  itinerant  traders  in  popu- 
lar superstitions,  447.  Its  church, 
ii.  19 

Philo,  harmonization  of  Judaism  and 
Platonism  attempted  by,  i.  33  note. 
His  argument  against  the  Myste- 
ries, 41  note.  A  valuable  witness 
for  his  OAvn  school,  66  note,  67.  On 
the  influence  of  the  Jews  in  Baby- 
lonia, 68,  69  note.  On  God's  at- 
tributes, 79,  214  note.  His  notions 
on  the  subject  of  a  Messiah,  86,  87. 
Character  of  his  rationalism,  123. 
Modern  parallel  to  him,  126.  His 
allegorical  interpretations  adopted 
by  Cerinthus,  ii.  60.  —  See  ii.  45,  59 
note. 

pHiLOMELiUM,  or  Philadelphia,  epistle 
fi-om  Smyrna  to  the  church  of,  ii. 
138. 

Philopatris,  the,  iii.  400,  401. 

Philosopheks  of  Julian's  era,  iii. 
5-7. 

Philosophumena  of  Hippolytus, 
discovery  of;  its  value  to  Gnostic 
students,  ii.  48  note.  Story  of  a 
pretended  god,  54  7ivte.  On  Basil- 
ides  and  iiis  theory,  68  note.  On 
the  Ophites,  85  note.  —  See  59 
note. 

Philosophy,  vanity  of  eflfbrts  to  re- 
place religion  by,  i.  38,  44.  Why 
insutHcient  for  'the  purpose,  41. 
Accommodating  to  those  whom  it 
addressed,  42.  Department  in  which 
it  nobly  played  its  part,  43.  When 
almost  extinct,  iii.  47,  48.  —  See 
Natural  Philosophy. 


Philostorgids,  heroes  of  the  histciy 
of,  ii.  451  note.  On  the  worship 
of  a  statue  by  Christians,  iii.  383. 
Reference  to  his  Fragments,  ii.  446 
note;  iii.  44,  59,  60,  notes. 

Phineas,  cited  as  an  authority  for  the 
slaughter  of  unbelievers,  ii.  310. 

Phlkgon,  disputed  passage  of,  i.  346 
note. 

Phcenicia,  ii.  36.  Dualistic  princi- 
ple of  its  cosmogony,  37.  Elagaba- 
lus's  antics  before  its  deity,  179. 

Photiniaks,  condemnatioii  of  the 
heresy  of  the,  iii.  105. 

Photius,  writings  preserved  by  the 
pious  hostility  of,  ii.  451  note. 

Phrygia,  wide-spread  propagation 
of  the  Avorship  of,  i.  48.  Extrava- 
gances of  its  votaries,  444.  Paul's 
journeys  thither,  444,  456.  Its 
Montanism  a  re-action  on  Gnosti- 
cism, 90,  164.  Correspondence  be- 
tween its  Christianity  and  ics  Hea- 
thenism, 165.  Its  Christian  colo- 
nists in  Vienne  and  their  disclaimer 
of  Montanism,  ii.  147, 148,  165  note. 
—  See.  36,  94,  117,  341. 

Pilate,  Pontius,  indignities  offered 
to  the  Jews  by,  i.  140.  His  disre- 
gard for  human  life  on  occasions, 
242,  243  note.  Motives  of  the  San- 
liedrin  in  sending  Jesus  before  him, 
327,  328.  His  probable  emotions  at 
their  conduct  and  at  the  nature  of 
the  charge,  329-331.  His  defer- 
ence to  their  religious  scruples,  332. 
His  examination  and  declaration  of 
the  innocence  of  Jesus,  332-334. 
Result  of  his  efforts  to  induce  the 
Jews  to  spare  Him,  335-338.  His 
wife's  counsel,  338,  339.  His  mo- 
tives for  consenting  to  the  sacrifice 
of  Jesus,  339-341.  Occasion  of  his 
disgrace,  377  note.  His  place  of  ex- 
ile, ii.  147.  False  acts  asi-ribed  to 
him,  234.  Discovery  of  the  inscrip- 
tion written  by  him  for  the  Saviour's 
cross,  352.  — See  i.  280,  287,  348, 
349;  ii.  65. 

Pilgrim's  Progress,  an  ancient,  iii. 
364  note. 

Pilgrimages  to  the  Holy  Land,  iii. 
196.  Effect  of  Jerome's  example, 
197. 

Pindar,  iii.  7.  Composition  of  a 
Christian  Pindar,  12. 

PiSTUS  excluded  from  the  see  of  Al- 
exandria, ii.  417. 

Plaguks.  —  See  Pestilences. 

Plakciv  on  the  separation  of  the  Jew 
and  Gentile  converts,  i.  425  note. 


INDEX. 


491 


On  the  potior  principalitas,  iii.  269 
note. 

Plato's  Imaginary  Republic,  short- 
comings of,  i.  42.  His  belief  in  im- 
mortality, 48.  Distinctiv'e  features 
of  his  "  Timteus  "  and  his  "  Repub- 
lic," ii.  43.  Simon  Magus  well-read 
m  his  works,  54  vote.  Worshipped 
by  the  Carpocratians,  83.  Degen- 
eracy of  his  disciples,  iii.  6.  His 
writings  interdicted  to  the  Chris- 
tians bv  Julian,  12.  —  See  i.  450 ; 
ii.  83,  182,  455. 

Platonic  Paganism,  Julian's  abor- 
tive attempt  at,  ii.  34,  456.  Its 
great  hierophant,  215.  —  See  ii.  80, 
384. 

Platonism,  attempted  harmonization 
of  Judaism  with,  i.  33  note;  ii. 
161.  Point  of  coincidence  between 
it  and  Indian  opinion,  i.  42  7iote. 
Its  doctrine  of  a  Mediator,  79. 
Fate  of  a  Christian  Platonist,  ii. 
137.  Platonic  notion  of  demons, 
214.  Commencement  of  the  strife 
between  it  and  Aristotelianisra  in 
the  Church,  447  note.  —  See  ii.  45, 
53,  58,  65,  359. 

Pleroma,  various  Gnostic  notions  of 
the,  ii.  62,  64,  73,  74,  75,  77,  79. 

Pliny  the  elder,  immortality  of  the 
soul  contemned  by,  i.  48.  lUu-stra- 
tive  passage,  49"  n^te,  —  See  115 
note. 

Pliny  the  younger;  historical  value 
of  his  correspondence  with  Trajan, 
ii.  95.  Christians  tortured  and  put  [ 
to  death  by  him,  96,  97,  98,  notes. 
Policy  involved  in  his  dealings  with 
them,  101,  102.  His  reference  to 
their  sacred  songs,  406  note,  407. 

Plutauch's  suggestion  as  to  the 
Eg}^tian  religion,  i.  24  note.  On 
Epicurean  hypocrisy,  44. 

Pluto,  Serapian  impersonation  of,  ii. 
160. 

Poetry,  religion  declining  into,  i.  33. 
Forswearing  the  old  imaginative 
faith,  49.  Its  presence  in  the 
Gospel,  133,  134.  Transmutation 
into  religious  allegory,  ii.  187.  Dis- 
tinction between  Grecian  and  Chris- 
tian poetry,  iii.  115.  Attempt  at  a 
Christian  Homer,  12,  359.  Poetrj' 
of  Christianity,  358-363.  Speci- 
men of  a  rare  Latin  poet,  361-362 
note.  Christian  poets,  see  Ephraem ; 
Gregoi'yof  Nnzianzum ;  Pnulentius. 
Gnostic  poets,  see  Bardtsants ;  Har- 
monius.  Pagan  prophetic  poetry, 
see  Sibylline   Ve7'ses. 


Poets,  ancient,  the  priests  of  nature- 
worship,  i.  21. 

Polemical  works  of  the  early  Chris- 
tians, their  object  and  character,  iii. 
367,  369. 

Pollentia,  battle  of,  iii.  98. 

PoLYBius,  i.  45.  On  the  need  of  a 
religion  for  the  common  people, 
ibid. 

Polycarp,  ii.  138.  ISTarrative  of  his 
martyrdom,  138-143.  Shakspearian 
parallel  to  an  incident  ni  it,  143 
note.  The  event  made  a  celebra- 
tion of  the  Church,  iii.  328  7iGte. 

Polytheism,  Schlegel  on  the  orighi 
of,  i.  22  nute.  Relaxing  its  hold, 
31.  Effect  of  the  progress  of  knowl- 
edge, 33.  Awaiting  its  death- 
blow, 52.  Direct  opposition  of 
Christianity  to  it,  437.  Sources 
of  its  hold  upon  the  people,  and  bar- 
riers interposed  by  it  to  a  new  order 
of  things,  438,  439.     In  Rome,  438, 

439.  Its  position  in  Greece,  440. 
Aspect  it  would  present  to  a  Chris- 
tian teacher  entering  a  Heathen  city, 

440,  441,  notes.  Its  phases  in  dif- 
ferent localities,  447.  Position  of 
Christianity  towards  it,  ii.  93,  99. 
Its  outward  splendor  little  affected 
by  its  internal  decay,  99.  An-aigned 
in  Christian  Apologies,  112.  Its 
last  effort,  154.  Effect  of  Commo- 
dus's  deification,  157.  Satirized  by 
Lucian,  186.  Decaving  beyond 
cure,  217,  342,  344,  349.  Courting 
an  union  with  Judaism,  iii.  24. — 
See  ii.  1U2,  109,  207,  212,  214,225, 
228.     See  Ileathenism;  Paganism. 

P03IPEY,  effect  of  the  aspect  of  the 
Jewish  Temple  upon,  i.  32.  His  re- 
liance on  astrologers,  50.  Cause  to 
which  the  Jews  ascribed  his  death, 
169.  Wonder  of  his  soldiers  at  the 
Sabbatarianism  of  the  Jews,  211. 

PoMRONius  the  deacon,  ii.  Ii2. 

Pontianus,  St.,  paintings  in  the 
chapel  of,  iii.  396. 

Ponticus  martyred  with  Blandina,  ii. 
151. 

Pontife.-?  Maximus,  Constantine 
hailed  as,  ii.  294. 

Pontiffs,  discovery  of  the  remains 
of,  iii.  389  note. 

Pontificate  of  Pagan  Rome,  coveted 
and  borne  by  emperors,  i.  439;  ii. 
391;  iii.  83.  Refused  by  Gratian, 
86.  Its  last  act,  88.  Gradual  as- 
sumption of  the  Christian  pontifi- 
cate by  bishops,  ii  32.  Wealth  and 
power  of  the  pontifi"  of  the  West,  iii. 


492 


INDEX. 


269. —  See  li.  421  note.  See  also 
Papal  Power ;  Pope. 

Pontius,  the  deacon,  on  the  plague 
in  Carthage,  ii.  198, 198  note;  iii. 324 
note.  On  Cyprian's  holiness  in  his 
retirement,  ii.  200  note. 

Pontius  Pilate.  —  See  Pilate. 

PoNTUS  destruction  of  churches,  and 
martyrdoms  in,  ii.  321,  322.  Dis- 
putes on  the  martyrdoms,  321  note. 

Popes;  the  first  martyr-pope,  ii.  192 
note.  Growth  of  their  power,  394. 
Establishment  of  their  supremac}', 
iii.  54.  Their  difficulties  with  the 
nobles  and  the  people,  134.  Incen- 
tives tc  c  mtests  for  the  dignity,  279. 
—  See  Papal  power  ;  Pontificate. 
See  also  Boniface ;  Damasus ;  Gela- 
sius ;  Gregory  I. ;  Liberius ;  Mar- 
cellus;  Paschal;  Siricius. 

Popp^A,  Agrippina  discarded  by 
Nero  lor,  i.  416  note.  Reasons  for 
her  alleged  protection  of  the  Jews, 
470  note,  480,  481;  ii.  100. 

Porch  of  the  church,  classes  limited 
to  the,  iii.  314,  315. 

Pop.CH,  philosophy  of  the,  ii.  117.  — 
See  Stoics. 

PoRCiAN  Basilica,  result  of  Justina's 
demand  for  the,  iii.  168. 

Porphyry,  or  Porphyrius,  his  theory 
of  the  religion  of  Egypt,  24  note. 
On  Buddhist  asceticism,  ii.  39  note. 
On  the  transmutation  of  poetry  into 
religiouF  allegory,  187,  188. 

PoRSON,  Professor,  on  the  number  of 
Christians  in  the  East,  ii.  280  note. 

Portraits.  —  See  Painting. 

Post-horses  pressed  and  distressed 
in  the  service  of  disputing  bishops, 
ii.  369,  449.  — See  iii.  6. 

PoTHiNUS,  nonagenarian  Bishop  of 
Lyons,  killed  by  the  rabble,  ii.  149. 
Hi?  retort  to  his  persecutors,  149. 

Pk^textatus,  proconsul  of  Achaia, 
privileges  reclaimed  for  the  Pagans 
by,  iii.  37.  His  appeal  for  mercy 
to  practisers  of  magic,  43.  His 
high  character,  dignities,  and  hon- 
ors. S4.  Position  of  his  wife;  his 
apotheosis,  85.  Their  poetic  ad- 
dresses to  each  other,  85  note.  His 
attempt  to  preserve  Paganism,  87. 

PR.iiTORiAN  guards,  church  destroyed 
by  the,  ii.  220. 

Praxiteles,  i.  437;  ii.  339. 

Preacher,  office  and  qualifications 
of  the,  iii.  316. 

Prelates.  —  See  Bishops. 

Predestination.  —  See  Election. 

Presbyters  of  the  early  Church,  ii. 


19.  Their  original  functions,  27. 
Their  graduation  into  a  sacerdotal 
order,  32.  —  See  iii.  316. 

Pressense,  M.  de,  i.  469  note.  On 
the  church  of  the  Catacombs,  iii. 
333  note. 

Prichard,  Dr.,  on  Egyptian  mytholo- 
g}',  i.  21,  22,  24,  notes. 

Pride Aux,  Dr.,  notions  of,  relative  to 
Zoroaster,  i.  72,  73  note. 

Priesthood  of  the  Christians.  —  See 
Clergy. 

Priesthood  of  the  Jews.  Jesus' 
tempter  supposed  to  have  been  a 
high-priest,  154.  Position  of  the 
high-priest  in  regard  to  the  Roman 
governor,  396.  High-priests,  s«e 
Ananius ;  Annas  ;  Caiaphas  ;  Is- 
mael ;  .Jonathan. 

Priesthood  of  the  Pagans  inter- 
dicted from  public  exhibitions,  iii. 
16.  Confirmation  of  their  privi- 
leges, 36.  Abrogation  of  same,  88. 
—  See  Heathenism ;  Paganism. 

Prince  of  the  Captivity,"!.  99  note; 
ii.  253. 

Prisca,  apostle  of  Montanism,  ii. 
165. 

Prisca  and  Valerian,  wife  and  daugh- 
ter of  Diocletian,  suspected  of 
Christian  leanings,  ii.  208.  Abomi- 
nation forced  upon  them,  223. 

Priscilla.  —  See  Aquila. 

Priscilla,  St.,  painting  of  a  martyr- 
dom in  the  cemetery  of,  iii.  401. 

Priscillian  and  his  followers,  the 
first  heretics  put  to  death,  iii.  66. 
Circumstances  of  their  martyrdom, 
173.  Ambrose's  conduct  relative  to 
it,  173,  174. 

Priscus  contemns  philosophy  as  a 
fashion,  iii.  6  note.  At  Julian's  death- 
bed, 81.  Result  of  his  summons 
before  Valentin ian,  46. 

Prisoners,  humane  regulations  re- 
garding, iii.  306-307  note. 

Pro.eresius,  eflfect  of  Julian's  edict 
on  the  teachings  of,  iii.  12. 

Probi,  Christianitv  embraced  by  the^ 
iii.  96. 

Probus,  Ambrose  befriended  and  pro- 
phetically counselled  by,  iii.  156. 

Proconsul  and  propraetor,  difference 
betAveen  the  two  offices,  i.  400  note. 

Procopius  lays  the  diadem  at  Jovi- 
an's  feet,  in.  36.  His  rebellion, 
and  hopes  entertained  of  it,  44. 
Astrological  prediction  of  his  eleva- 
tion, 44. 

Procopius  on  the  public  dancing  of 
an  empress,  iii.  343. 


INDEX. 


493 


Pkoculus,  why  taken  into  favor  by 
Severus,  ii-  158. 

Prodician  Gnostics,  vicious  tenets 
of  the,  ii.  84. 

Prodigal  Son,  parable  of,  rejected 
in  Marcion's  Gospel,  ii.  83  note. 

Propeutius,  lines  from,  i.  47  note. 
Character  of  his  poetry,  51  note. 

Prophets,  source  of  a  phrase  relating 
to,  i.  158  note.  —  See  168  note. 

Proselytes  of  the  Gate,  relation  be- 
tween the  Jews  and  the,  i.  393. 
Discussion  regarding  them,  393, 
394,  notes. 

Prostitution,  notion  of  the  Prodi- 
cian Gnostics  on,  ii.  85  note. 

Protadius,  St.,  legend  of  the  discov- 
ery of  the  reliques  of,  iii.  166. 

Protestants  of  Judaism,  i.  282  note. 
Premature  Protestants,  iii.  238. 

Protogenes  of  Orientalism,  ii.  37. 

Proverbs,  idea  o»  Deity  in  the  book 
of,  i.  79  nott:. 

Prudentius,  eulogium  on  Julian  by, 
iii.  31  note.  On  the  Vestal  virgins, 
88  note.  On  conversion  to  Chris- 
tianity, 96  note.  His  poem  on  Theo- 
dosius's  enactments,  and  against 
Symmachus,  97,  97  note,  99  note. 
On  the  preacher,  316  note.  Verses 
referring  to  sepulture,  324  note.  On 
the  Roman  stage,  341.  On  gladia- 
torial shows,  348  note,  350  note. 
His  style  as  a  Latin  poet,  356,  360. 
His  hymn  for  the  Innocents'  Day, 
360  note.  His  verses  against  Sym- 
machus, ibid.  —  See  426,  note  3,"  last 
line. 

Psychic  principle  of  the  Gnostics,  ii. 
71,  76,  77. 

Ptolemais,  Bishop  of,  an  adherent  of 
Arius,  ii.  366  note.  —  See  Synesius. 

Ptolemy,  a  name  for  the  later  Egyp- 
tian kings,  i.  379.  Temple  ascribed 
to  one  of  them,  iii.  72,  73. 

Ptolemy  the  philosopher,  i.  115 
note. 

Publicans  or  tax-farmers  in  Judaea, 
i.  140.  Taken  into  favor  by  Jesus, 
206,  207,  280,  281. 

PuBLicus  Victor,  the  Descriptiones 
Urbis  of,  iii.  83  note. 

Punic  war,  parallel  to  the,  ii.  136. 

Punishment,  capital,  for  heresy,  the 
first,  iii.  172. 

Punishments,  corporal,  season  when 
not  allowed,  iii.  307  note. 

Purification,  Mosaic  law  relative 
to,  i.  112. 

Puritan  Christian  names,  anticipa- 
tion of,  ii.  313  note. 


PuTEOLi,  Paul's  sojourn  at,  i.  464. 

Pye  Smith,  Dr.,  on  the  Messiah,  i. 
89  note. 

Pyrrhonists,  ii.  475. 

Pythagoras,  system  derived  from 
the  East  by,  i.  86.  Anti-coenobitic 
course  taken  by  his  followers,  ii. 
43.  Simon  Magus  well  read  in  hia 
works,  54  note.  Valentinianism 
traced  to  him,  73  note.  Worshipped 
by  the  Carpocratians,  83.  Infor- 
mation relative  to  mysticism  to  be 
found  in  his  Hfe,  188.  His  anony- 
mous superior,  iii.  6  note. 

Python  the  mythic,  ii.  341. 


Q. 


QuADRATUS,  occasion  of  the  presen- 
tation of  his  Apology  to  Hadrian, 
ii.  109  note,  110. 

Quincy,  Quatremere  de,  dimensions 
of  ancient  temples  given  by,  ii.  345 
note. 

QuiNisEXTAN  Council,  and  the  sym- 
bolism of  the  Passion,  iii.  403  7iote. 

Quintilian's  declamations,  character 
of,  iii.  371  note. 

QuiNTUS,  a  Phrygian  braggadocio, 
cowardice  and  apostasy  of,  ii.  139. 


R. 


Rabbi,  Jesus  saluted  as,  i.  171. 

Rabbins  and  Rabbinical  writers;  on 
the  coming  of  the  Messiah,  i.  63 
note.  Extent  of  credence  to  be 
given  to  their  books,  66  note.  One 
of  their  accusations  against  Jesus, 
116  note.  Character  of  their  teach- 
ings and  basis  of  their  supremacy, 
189,  425.  On  the  waters  of  Siloah, 
256.  Period  at  which  the  Jews 
surrendered  themselves  to  their  do- 
minion, 423.  Despotic  authority 
assumed  bv  them,  438.  The  new 
priesthood," ii.  22.  — See  iii.  265. 

Races  in  the  circus,  party  warfan 
caused  by,  iii.  352,  353.  —  See  Cir- 
cus. 

Ranke's  view  of  the  object  of  em- 
peror-worship, i.  37  note. 

Raoul-Rochette.  —  See  Rochette. 

Rape  and  abduction,  Constantine's 
laws  against,  ii.  399,  400. 

Raphia  in  Palestine,  Pagan  worship 
at,  iii.  70. 

Rask,  Professor,  on  the  antiquity  of 
the  Zendavesta,  i.  75  note. 


494 


mDEX. 


Ravenna,  imperial  court  held  at,  ii. 
335;  iii.  100. 

Redekmer.  —  See  Jesus  Christ;  Mes- 
siah. 

Redemption,  destruction  of  the  Jew- 
ish hope  of,  i.  349.  —  See  Schleier- 
macher. 

Reg enekation.  —  See  Baptism. 

Religion,  peculiarities  of  the  older 
religions,  i.  11.  Treatment  by  vic- 
tors of  the  religion  of  the  van- 
quished, 11,  12.  Ancient  instances 
ol'  persecution,  12  note.  Better  sys- 
tem introduced  by  Alexander  the 
Great,  13.  Policy  of  the  Romans, 
13,  14.  Exhaustion  of  the  old  reli- 
gions, 15.  Their  dissociating  prin- 
ciple, 16,  17.  Primary  principles, 
18.  Best  work  on  ancient  religions, 
ibkl.  note.  Effect  of  the  progress 
of  knowledge,  33-38.  Pagan  no- 
tions of  the  need  of  a  religion  for 
the  multitude,  45,  46.  True  sources 
of  religious  influence,  104.  First 
blood  judicially  shed  for  religious 
opinion,  iii.  65,  172.  Results  of 
attempts  to  produce  religious  im- 
pressions, 421,  422.  Religion  and 
poetry,  see  Pottry.  Various  reli- 
gious sj'-stems,  see  Christianity; 
Gnosticism ;  Heathenism ;  Jiidaism ; 
Ilnni  ;  Orientalism  ;  Paganism  ; 
Polytheism ;   Zoroastrianism. 

Reliques  of  saints  installed  as  oh- 
jects  of  Avorship,  iii.  164.  —  See 
Saints. 

"Remission  of  sins,"  original  Jewish 
signitication  of,  i.  107  note. 

Remusat  on  the  Chinese  dogma  of 
tlie  Creation,  i.  79  note. 

Resurrection,  early  Jewish  doctrine 
of  the,  i.  85.  Classes  and  individ- 
uals excluded  therefrom,  ibid.  note. 
—  See  i.  452.  See  also  Immortality 
of  the  Soul. 

Resurrection,  Church  of  the,  built 
on  the  site  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre, 
ii.  352.     Its  magnificence,  353. 

Reuterdahl  "  de  Fontibus,"  refer- 
ence to,  iii.  366  note. 

Revelations,  or  Apocalypse,  period 
of  the  composition  of  the  book  of, 
i.  399.  Where  written,  ii.  18.  Its 
reference  to  the  Church  of  Ephesus, 
20.  Why  Cerinthus  was  considered 
its  author,  61  note.  Interpretations 
of  its  reference  to  Babylon,  120. 

Rhine,  spread  of  the  pestilence  to 
the,  ii.  136.  Its  frontiers  threat- 
ened, 229.  Constantine's  campaign, 
293.    Julian's  campaign,  453. 


Rimini.  —  See  Councils. 

Robinson.  Dr.,  on  the  site  of  the 
transfiguration,  i.  250  note. 

Rochette,  M.  Raoul,  on  Heathen 
burials,  iii.  325,  326,  n<,tes.  On  the 
funereal  reliques  of  the  Agapas,  329- 
830  7iote.  On  the  Heathen  proto- 
type for  the  Good  Shepherd,  388 
note.  On  Gnostic  images  of  Christ, 
3y5  note.  On  portraits  of  the  Sav- 
iour and  the  Virgin,  396,  400  7iote. 
On  a  painting  of  a  martvrdom,  401. 
—  See  396,  399,  notes. 

Roman  Catholics,  classic  parallel  to 
seventeenth  century  accusations 
against  the,  i.  476  note. 

Roman  females,  Pagan  and  Chris- 
tian, iii.  235,  236.  At  gladiatorial 
shows,  348. 

Roman  laws  adopted  by  the  Church, 
iii  294. 

Roman  literature,  culminating  point 
of,  iii.  355. 

RoMANUS,  endeavors  to  save  the 
Christians  at  Edessa,  iii.  76. 

Rome,  fundamental  principle  of  the 
monarchy  of,  i.  10.  Contrast  be- 
tween its  systems  of  conquest  and 
of  government,  ibid.  note.  Its  civ- 
ilizing influences,  10,  11.  Its  con- 
duct with  regard  to  the  religions  of 
conquered  nations,  12,  13  note,  14. 
Nature  of  its  own  religious  system, 
26,  27.  Points  of  distinction  be- 
tween the  same  and  the  religion  of 
Greece,  27  iwte.  Deification  of  do- 
mestic virtues,  27,  28.  Transmuta- 
tion of  irs  religion  from  a  moral  into 
a  political  power,  28.  Influence  fa- 
tal to  its  religion,  33.  Human  sac- 
rifices, 34-36  notes.  Deification  of 
the  emperors  and  its  consequences, 
37.  Instances,  ibid.  note.  Suita- 
bility of  Stoicism  to  its  people,  43. 
Ready  reception  of  foreign  religions 
among  them,  48.  Irreligious  belief 
and  teachings  of  their  poets,  49,  50. 
Footing  obtained  by  astrologers, 
50,  51.  Approach  of  Christianity, 
52.  Fable  of  their  national  origin, 
an  emblem  of  their  spirit,  104.  Bap- 
tismal lustrations  among  them,  144. 
Jewish  apprehensions  of  destruction 
at  their  hands,  287.  Their  law  rela- 
tive to  the  wives  of  provincial  rul- 
ers, 338.  Relationship  between  its 
Judivian  prefects  and  the  Jewish 
Sanhedrin,  396.  Paul  sent  thither, 
417.  Jewish  epithet  for  its  people, 
422.  Paul's  epistle  to  them,  427- 
429,  479.     Its  religion  a  part  of  the 


INDEX. 


495 


State,  439.  Burning  of  the  city  un- 
der Nero,  and  persecution  of  the 
Christians,  466-469,  482  _;  ii.  8,  9. 
Disputes  as  to  Peter's  visit,  i.  474, 
475,  476  note.  Further  as  to  Paul's 
imprisonments  and  martyrdom, 
477-4S5.  Commencement  of  bar- 
barian encroachments  on  its  bor- 
ders, ii.  7.  Sympathy  for  persecut- 
ed Christian!^,  9  vtAe.  Reception 
of  Gnostic  teachers  by  its  higher 
classes,  87.  Fears  as  to  its  fall  with 
the  fall  of  its  old  religion,  119,  120. 
Sibylline  prophecies  to  that  eftect, 
12i;  123,  125-127.  Visitations 
of  physical  calamities  on  tlie  em- 
pire :  earthquakes,  inundations,  fam- 
ine, pestilence,  134-136,  198,  239. 
The  capital  deserted  by  the  empe- 
rors, and  lowered  into  the  rank 
of  a  provincial  citv,  211,  213,  246- 
249,  334:  iii.  84.   'Diocletian's  tri- 


umph 


Depreciation    of 


its  citizenship,  245.  Consequences 
of  the  city's  insults  to  Constan- 
tine,  332,  333.  Its  architectural 
features  copied  in  Constan tine's 
new  city,  336,  337.  Killed  of  its 
venerated  Palladium  and  statue 
of  Victor}',  341;  iii.  87.  Its  forum, 
temples,  basilicas,  and  gods,  ii.  345, 
347  note ;  iii.  83.  Source  of  its  corn 
supplies,  ii.  384.  Its  share  in  the 
Arian  and  Athanasian  disputes,  427, 
430,  431.  Scene  at  the  apotheosis 
of  Pra?textatus,  iii.  85.  Fate  of  its 
Vestals,  88.  Cause  of  the  consum- 
mation of  its  ruin,  100,  101.  Vi- 
cissitudes of  its  religion,  see  Hea- 
thenism ;  Paganism ;  Pulythtism. 
Its  rulers,  see  the  names  of  the 
several  emperors. 

Rome,  Council  of.  —  See  Councils. 

RosemmOller  on  Isaiah,  i.  65  note. 
On  the  derivation  of  Nicolas,  ii.  59 
no?e.— See  i.  103,  159,  450,  457, 
473,  notes. 

Rossi  on  the  first  martyr-pope,  ii. 
192  note.  On  the  anagram  1X9X2 , 
iii.  387  note,  389  note.  On  the  form 
of  the  cross,  403  note. 

RosTELH  on  Christian  symbolism, 
iii.  389  note. 

Rothe's  arguments  against  lay-elders, 
ii.  25  7iote. 

Rousseau's  theory  anticipated,  i.  17 
note.  His  testimony  to  the  genuine- 
ness of  the  Gospels',  58  note. 

RouTH's  "Reliquise  Sacrae,"  refer- 
ences to  and  citations  ti"om,  ii.  109 
note,  280  note;  iii.  359  7iote. 


RuFiNUS,  iii.  73  note,  253.  Jerome's 
controversy  with  him,  237. 

Rumohh's  '•  Italienische  Forschun- 
gen,"  iii.  385  note.  His  opinion  on 
enrly  Christian  relievos,  390  note. 
On  a  statue  of  the  Good  Shep- 
herd, 397  note. 

RusT.VN,  mythic  Persian  hero,  expect- 
ed re-appearance  of,  ii.  256. 

RusTicus,  Justin  .Martyr  summoned 
before,  ii.  137. 


S. 


Sabaism.  —  See  Tsdbaism. 

Sabbath,  rules  for  reading  the  Law 
on  the,  i.  185  note.  Jesus  in  the 
synagogue  thereon,  185,  188.  Jew- 
ish provisions  for  its  rigid  obser- 
vance, 211,  212.  Breaches  thereof 
by  Jesus,  210,  213-215,  217,  263. 
Charitable  act  expressly  forbidden 
on  that  day,  263  note.  Observed 
by  the  Manicheans,  ii.  274.  Con- 
stantine's  rescript  for  its  observance, 
296,  396.  Ground  for  Pagan  acqui- 
escence therein,  296,  397.  Prohibi- 
tion of  games  bv  Theodosius,  iii. 
335,  336. 

Sabelliaxism,  propounder  of,  ii  360. 
Its  precise  distinctions,  361.  Its 
supporters  and  opponents,  365,  373, 
378. 

Sabinus,  lenient  edict  issued  by,  ii. 
232. 

Sacerdotal,  establishment  of  the 
Pagans,  ii.  392.  393. 

Sacerdotal  power.  —  See  Bishops ; 
Church  ;  Clergy. 

Sacraments  of  the  Church,  secrecy 
of  the,  iii.  318,  —  See  Baptism;  Eu- 
charist. 

Sacred  writings  of  the  early  Chris- 
tians, iii.  358.  Poetry,  358-363. 
Legends  and  spurious  gospels,  363. 
Lives  of  saints,  365.  History,  365. 
Apoloi^des,  367,  368.  Herraeneu- 
tics,  368,  369.  Expositions  of  faith 
and  polemical  writings,  369,  370. 
Orations,  370-375. 

Sacrifices,  Pagan,  suggested  to 
Christians  as  the  price  of  life,  ii. 
172.  Cyprian's  refusal,  199.  Re- 
sults of  refusal  in  other  cases,  224, 
225,  226.  Constantine's  prohibitory 
edicts,  389,  392,  392  note,  393:  iii. 
44  note.  Theodosius's  laws  against 
them,  66.  —  See  Human  Sacrifices. 

Sacy,  Sylvestre  de,  on  the  Persian 
expectation  of  a  Messiah,  i.  84 
note. 


496 


INDEX. 


Sadder,  of  the  Persians,  Hyde's 
translation  of  the,  i.  74  note. 

Sadducees,  the,  i.  141,  200  note,  257. 
Nature  of  the  doctrines  held  by 
them,  282.  Point  of  union  between 
them  and  the  Pharisees,  283.  Je- 
sus' disposal  of  their  subtleties, 
302,  303.  Sanguinar}'  in  their  exe- 
cution of  public  justice,  327  note. 
Predominance  in  the  Sanhedrin  at- 
tained by  them,  370.  Mani  branded 
as  a  Sadducee,  ii.  277. 

Saimt  Croix,  M.,  on  the  feeling  of 
Greek  and  Latin  authors  towards 
the  Jews,  i.  67  note.  On  the  ex- 
tent of  Hadrian's  travels,  ii.  108 
note. 

Saint  Martin,  M.,  loss  to  the  learned 
world  by  the  death  of,  i.  68  note.  — 
See  Le  "Beau. 

Saints,  lives  of  the,  iii.  425.  Wor- 
ship of  saints  and  angels,  424,  425. 
See  Reliques. 

Salamis,  St.  Paul  at,  i.  399. 

Sallust  the  prefect,  effect  of  the  re- 
monstrances of,  iii.  19.  His  rebuke 
to  Jvdian,  24.  The  empire  offered 
to  him,  36. 

Sallust,  Roman  author,  i.  44  note. 

Samaria,  Simon  Magus  in,  ii.  49. 

Samaritan  Chronicle  (Liber  Josuae), 
need  for  a  critical  edition  of  the,  i. 
181  note.  The  Samaritan  Letters, 
i.  180  note. 

Samaritans,  outrages  on  the  Jews 
by  the,  i.  177.  Site  of  their  tem- 
ple, 178.  Interview  of  Jesus  with 
one  of  their  women,  179,  180  text 
and  note.  Their  expectation  of  a 
Messiah,  180,  181.  Differences  be- 
tween their  notions  and  those  of  the 
Jews,  182.  Their  mode  of  govern- 
ment, iuid  ready  acknowledgment 
of  Jesus,  182,  183.  Their  subse- 
quent rejection  of  him,  267,  268. 
Parable  of  the  Good  Samaritan, 
270   note.,  284.      Tumults   between 

'  them  and  the  Jews,  396,  413;  ii. 
159.  Dr.  Burton's  suggestion,  ii. 
Ill  note. 

Samos  visited  by  Paul,  i.  463. 

bAMOTHRACE,  sanctity  of  mysteries 
at,  i.  445. 

Sanohoniathon,  cosmogony  of,  ii. 
37. 

Sanctus  of  Vienne,  martyrdom  of, 
ii.  149,  151. 

Sandauke's  sons  sacrificed  to  Bac- 
chus, i.  34  note. 

Sanhedrin,  the  rulers  of  the  Jews; 
their  functions,  i.  139.    Their  char- 


acter in  popular  estimation,  140. 
Alternate  predominance  of  Saddu- 
cees and  Pharisees  among  them, 
141.  Theory  as  to  the  tempter 
having  been  one  of  their  body,  154, 
155.  Powers  exclusively  vested  in 
them,  158  note,  168  note.  Beginning 
to  take  account  of  Jesus,  170,  171. 
His  sabbath-breaking  brought  be- 
fore them,  213.  Their  difficulty  in 
the  matter,  216,255,256,261  note. 
Nicodemus's  representation,  257. 
Their  proceedings  in  reference  to 
the  healing  of  the  man  bliud  from 
birth,  263-266.  Their  deteniiination 
on  hearing  of  the  raising  of  Laza- 
rus, 275.  On  the  watch,  278.  Their 
dread  of  Pilate  and  of  the  iloman 
power,  280.  Afraid  of  acting  3'et, 
291.  Jesus's  apt  replies  to  them, 
293,297,298.  Their  deep  implica- 
tion in  his  murder,  and  mainspring 
of  the  act,  308,  309.  Their  con- 
tempt for  their  instrument,  Judas, 
314.  Jesus  in  their  toils;  hi.s  con- 
demnation, 320-322.  Question  as  to 
their  power  to  enforce  their  sentence, 
324-326.  INIurderous  act  relative 
to  a  prior  Sanhedrin  ascribed  to 
Herod,  326.  Emotions  of  Pilate  at 
their  sending  Jesus  before  him,  and 
result  of  their  interview  with  him, 
329-334.  Their  precautions  relative 
to  his  burial,  348,  349,  360.  Their 
probable  impressions  after  consum- 
mating their  purpose,  361,  383,  368. 
Their  proceedings  on  the  successful 
pi-eachings  of  the  apostles,  3b9,  370. 
Political  revolution  in  their  ovnx 
body,  370.  Their  dismay  at  the 
miraculous  release  of  their  prisoners, 
371.  The  apostles  before  them; 
effect  of  Gamaliel's  counsels,  372, 
373.  Result  of  Stephen's  arraign- 
ment before  them,  375,  376.  Their 
commission  to  Saul  of  Tarsus 
(Paul),  380.  Their  abortive  efforts 
at  revenge  upon  him,  412,  415,  416, 
417.  Victim  sacrificed  to  their  baf- 
fled hostility,  418.  Refuge  of  their 
body,  on  the  destruction  of  Jerusa- 
lem, 421.  —  See  262,  273,  283,  341, 
344,  350. 

Sanhedrin  of  the  Samaritans,  con- 
stitution of  the,  182,  183. 

Sapor,  King  of  Persia,  Constantine's 
letter  to,  ii.  285  note.  His  homage 
to  a  statue,  iii.  19.  Terms  extorted 
from  him  after  Julian's  expedition, 


INDEX. 


497 


Sardica,  edict  of  the  three  emperors 
at,  ii.  232.  —  See  Councils. 

Sassan,  sacred  trust  fulfilled  by  the 
kings  of,  ii.  258. 

Sassanian  fire-worshippers,  ii.  35. 

Satan's  earliest  and  latest  attributes, 
i,  78  text  and  note.  The  alleged 
creator  of  bad  men,  ii.  67,  67  note. 
Marriage  his  invention,  67.  His 
slaves  and  associates,  76.  —  See  ii. 
85. 

Saturninus  the  Gnostic,  system  of, 
ii.  61,66-68,  78. 

Saturninus  the  catechumen,  ii.  169. 

Satvkus,  fellow-martyr  with  Per- 
petua  and  Felicitas,  ii.  170,  173. 

Saul  of  Tarsus.  —  See  Paul.,  St. 

Savage  life,  theories  regarding,  i.  17 
note. 

Savigny,  opinion  relative  to  Jesus, 
supported  by,  i.  Ill  note. 

ScALiGER,  i.  419  note. 

Scapula,  Prefect  of  Africa,  Tertul- 
lian's  letter  and  admonition  to,  ii. 
119,  166,  167. 

ScKVA,  superstitition  of  the  sons  of,  i. 
459,  460.  _ 

ScHELSTRATE,  theory  first  developed 
by,  iii.  322  note. 

ScHLEGEL,  A.  W.,  on  the  worship  of 
civilized  nations,  i.  22  note. 

ScHLEGEL,  F.,  ii.  36  note;  i.  71  note. 

ScHLEiERMACHER's  cssay  on  St. 
Luke,  i.  113  note,  127  note.  His 
view  of  the  doctrine  of  redemption, 
352  note. 

ScHLEUSNER  on  the  principle  of  evil, 
i.  78  note. 

Schoolmen  of  Paganism,  waste  of 
ingenuity  by  the,  iii.  5. 

ScHROECK  on  saint  and  angel  wor- 
ship, iii.  425  note. 

SciPio's  humane  maxim,  ii.  113'. 

Scribes,  the,  i.  190.  Espousal  of 
Christ's  doctrines  by  one,  302. 

Sculpture  less  favored  by  Christi- 
anity than  by  Paganism, 'iii.  382. 

Scythopolis,  city  of,  its  character- 
istic, i.  193  note. 

Seasons  of  mourning  and  rejoicing 
among  the  ancients,  i.  20. 

Sebastian,  St.,  representation  of  the 
martyrdom  of,  iii.  401. 

Secundulus,  the  catechumen,  ii.  169. 

Seduction,  laws  against,  ii.  399, 
400. 

Seja  and  Segesta,  site  of  the  statues 
of,  i.  26  note. 

Seleucia,  pestilence  brought  from, 
ii.  135.    Its  Christian  communities. 


Self-denial,  barbarous  instance  of, 
iii.  215  note. 

Self-torture  of  the  ascetics,  iii.  210. 

Sem-ham-phorash,  Jesus  charged 
with  working  by  the  mysterious 
word,  i.  230  note.  Moses'  wonder- 
working word,  459. 

Seneca,  object  of  the  A.TzoKohjvTumg 
of,  i.  37  nute.  On  Jewish  proselyt- 
ism,  442  note.  Forged  correspond- 
ence between  him  and  St.  Paul,  456 
note.  Votary  and  victim  of  court 
intrigue,  ii.  44,  45.  —  See  i.  43,  47 
nute. 

Septuagint,  interpolations  in  the,  as 
to  Pagan  rites,  i.  41  note.  As  to 
guardian  angels,  77  note.  The 
foundation  of  Greek  ecclesiastical 
literature,  iii,  357. 

Sepulchre,  holy,  Pagan  temple  on 
the  site  of  the,  ii.  350.  Sanctity  of 
the  spot,  351.  Pagan  temple  re- 
placed by  a  Christian  church,  352, 
353. 

Sepulchres,  violation  of,  a  ground 
for  divorce,  ii.  401. 

Serapion,  influence  over  Chrysostom 
of,  iii.  140.  Deprivation  complained 
of  by  him,  218. 

Ser  apis,  treatment  during  the  repub- 
lic of  the  temples  of,  i.  14  note. 
Hadrian's  strange  jumble  of  its 
worshippers  with  the  Christians,  ii. 
Ill  note.  Sibylline  prophecy  of  its 
downfall,  124.  Influence  of  the 
worship  on  Severus  and  his  pro- 
ceedings, 160,  161.  How  regarded 
by  Alexander  Severus,  181.  De- 
scription of  the  temple  and  statue 
at  Alexandria,  iii.  72-74.  Their 
destruction  under  Theodosius,  77- 
79.  Discovery  of  tricks  practised 
by  the  priests,  78  note.  Fears  of 
the  Christians  after  their  triumph, 
79.  Object  of  the  demolition,  80. 
Transference  of  its  revenues  to  the 
Christians,  279.  —  See  i.  48,  441 
note;  ii.  188;  iii.  76. 

Sekenus  Granianus,  proconsul,  ii. 
110. 

Sergius  Paulus,  favor  shown  to 
Paul  and  Barnabas  by,  i.  400.  In- 
centive to  his  conversion,  443, 

Sermon  on  the  Mount,  chronological 
perplexities  concerning  the,  i.  198 
note.  When  delivered,  according 
to  St.  Luke,  223.  — See  205  note. 

Serpent-worshippers.  —  See  Ophi- 
tes. 

Servianus,  Hadrian's  gossiping  let- 
ter to,  ii.  Ill  noie. 


VOL.  III. 


32 


498 


INDEX. 


Sesostris,  famous  statue  attributed 
to,  iii.  73. 

Seventy  disciples,  Jesus'  choice  of 
the,  i.  269. 

Severus.  the  blind  butcher,  alleged 
miraculous  recovery  of,  iii.  166. 

Severus,  ii.  119,  152,  157.  Persecu-  , 
tion  of  the  Christians  under  him,  ■ 
159, 166.  Influence  of  the  Serapian  j 
worship  upon  him,  160,  161.  His 
end,  284.  —  See  Alexcunder  Severus ;  j 
Snlpicius  Severus.  i 

Sextus  Rufus  Festus,  Descriptiones  j 
Urbis  of,  iii.  73  note.  __    i 

Shah-poor,  Maui  repulsed  by,  iL  | 
267.  Mani's  reception  by  his  son,  | 
276.  i 

Shakespeare,  iii.  117  note.  Parallel  | 
in  his  Macbeth  to  an  incident  in  a  I 
martyrdom,  ii.  143  note.  i 

Shamanism,  ii.  252.  : 

Shechinah,  idea  symbolized  by  the 
i.  29. 

Shepherd  of  Hermas,  source  of  the, 
iii.  364.  Natm-e  of  the  work,  ibid, 
note.  —  See  Good  Shepherd. 

Shepherds,  rebellion  of,  ii.  136. 

Shibboleth,  i.  183.  Mysterious 
words,  see  Abraxas;  Jao ;  Sem- 
ham-phorash ;   Tetra-grammaton. 

ShiloH;  expectation  of  the,  i.  63. 

Shrines  of  Ephesus,  fame  of  the,  i. 
457,  461. 

Sibylline  books  and  verses,  ques- 
tion as  to  the  origin  of  the,  ii.  121. 
Interpolated  by  the  Christians,  ibid. 
Their  allusions  to  the  millennium, 
121  note.  Occasions  of  opening 
them,  123.  Pagan  calamities 
foretold  by  them,  123.  Use  made 
of  them  by  the  Christians,  128. 
Consulted  by  Aurelian,  203.  By 
Maxentius,  287.— See  391. 

SiCHEM,  Jewish  perversion  of  the 
name  of,  i.  178.  Site  of  the  well, 
ibid.  note.  —  See  182. 

Sicily,  dedication  of  temples  to  the 
Virgin  in,  iii.  102. 

SiDONius  Apollinaris,  verses  from, 
iii.  344,  344  note,  408  note. 

SiGANFU,  inscription  of,  iii.  35  note. 

SiGE,  or  Sizygos,  of  the  Valentinians, 
ii.  73  note. 

Silas,  or  Sylvanus,  Paul's  companion, 

i.  406,  444. 
SiLCo,  King  of  Nubia,  discovery  re- 
lating to,  ii.  405. 
Siloah,  fountain  of,  and  Jewish  re- 
joicings, i.  256. 
SiLOAM,  pool  of,  i.  263. 
Simeon,  the  song  of,  i.  106  nofe.    His 


knowledge  of  the  future  of  the  Child 
Jesus,  113.  Remarkable  point  in 
his  benediction  on  Him,  114. 

Simeon  ben  Hillel,  why  different 
from  the  above  Simeon,  i.  113,  114. 

Simeon,  Bishop  of  Jerusalem,  authen- 
ticity^ of  the  acts  of,  ii.  104.  His 
martyrdom,  106  note. 

Simeon  Jstylites,  iii.  210.  Enthusi- 
astic description  of  him,  210  r>ote. 

Simon  the  Canaanite,  why  so  called, 
i.  222,  223. 

Simon  the  Cyrenian,  legend  as  to  his 
substitution  on  the  cross  for  Jesus, 
ii.  72. 

Simon  the  heresiarch,  ii.  51  m)te. 

Simon  the  leper,  host  of,  and  proba- 
bly cured  by  Jesus,  i.  290. 

Simon  Magus,  i.  123,  181.  His  col- 
lision with  St.  Peter,  392 ;  ii.  48,  49 
note.  His  view  of  the  miracles  of 
Jesus,  49,  50.  Query  as  to  his 
identity  with  Felix's  "^pander,  50. 
His  real  character  and  tenets,  51. 
His  female  confederate,  51,  52,  55 
note,  90  note.  Source  of  his  opin- 
ions; his  avowed  object,  53.  Views 
of  scholars  as  to  himself  and  his 
system,  54,  55,  notes.  His  succes- 
sor, 65.  Charge  against  his  follow- 
ers, 90  note.  —  See  111  note. 

Simon  Peter.  —  See  Piter,  St. 

SiMONiDES,  barbarous  death  of,  iii.  46. 

Sin,  confession  of,  and  penance  for, 
iii.  298. 

Singing  and  music  in  the  church,  iii. 
406-410. 

SiON,  fortifications  on  Mount,  i  305. 

SiRicius,  Pope,  marital  interdiction 
laid  on  the  clergy  by,  iii.  284. 

SlRMiUM,  Temple  of  the  Sun  at,  ii. 
203.  Its  Arian  formulary,  430. 
Result  of  its  synod,  449.  Contest 
for  its  bishopric,  iii.  159. 

Sizygos,  ii.  73  note. 

Slaves  and  slavery.  Slaves  inad- 
missible to  the  Scandmavian  Val- 
halla, i.  53  note.  Penalties  for  sell- 
ing children  into  slavery,  ii.  397, 
398.  Oflence  for  which  slaves  were 
burned,  399.  Ceremony  of  manu- 
mission, 399  twte;  iii.  246.  Mutila- 
tion which  entitled  a  slave  to  his 
freedom,  ii.  402.  Humanizing  in- 
fluence of  Christianity,  iii.  158,  246. 
Treatment  of  slaves  under  Heathen 
rule,  246,  247.  Marital  interdicts, 
246,  294.  —  See  iii.  69  note. 
Sminthian  deity,  the,  ii.  341. 
Smith,  Dr.  Pye,  on  the  Messiah,  i.  89 
note. 


INDEX. 


499 


Smttii's  account  of  the  Greek  Church, 
iii.  359  note. 

Smyrna,  Church  of,  ii.  138.  Its  mar- 
tyr-bishop, see  Polycarp.  Christian 
humanity  there  during  an  earth- 
quake, 143. 

Socrates,  i.  4&0;  ii.  182.  Cause  of 
his  death,  i.  453.  Di^^ne  source  of 
his  instruction,  ii.  185  note. — See 
ii    455. 

Socrates,  ecclesiastical  historian,  on 
the  effect  of  national  character  on 
religion,  ii.  165  note.  Instance  of 
hi:;  judgment  and  impartiality,  373 
rute.  References,  ii.  369  note;  iii. 
9,  12,  15,  21,  59,  60,  77,  108,  118, 
276,  282,  286,  316,  notes. 

Solojion's  Song,  Jerome's  inter- 
pretation of,  iii.  235  note. 

Solomon's  temple,  the  starting  point 
of  a  new  era  in  Judaism,  i.  31. 
Messianic  notions  in  the  "  Wisdom 
of  Solomon,"  86.  Part  of  the  later 
Temple  named  after  him,  271. 

SoLVET  on  the  happiest  epoch  of 
Koman  history,  ii.  6  note.  On  Ha- 
drian's travels,  108  note. 

Soothsayers,  ii.  296.  Laws  against, 
390.    Their  aid  called  for,  iii.  100. 

Sopater,  tenet  denied  by,  ii.  330 
note.  His  intimacy  with  Constan- 
tine,  384.     Put  to  death,  385. 

Sophia,  St.,  Church  of,  at  Constanti- 
nople, ii.  337  note.  Military  assault 
therein  on  Chrj'sostom  and  his  con- 
gregation, iii.  149. 

Sophia  (Wisdom)  and  Sophia  Acha- 
moth,  in  the  Gnostic  systems,  ii. 
73-76,  79,  85. 

Sophists,  a  favorite  resort  of  the,  i. 
454  note. 

SoPHRONiA,  occasion  of  the  suicide 
of,  ii.  287. 

Sosthenes,  occasion  of  the  maltreat- 
ment of,  i.  455. 

SoTADic  verses,  character  of  the,  ii. 
(366  note. 

SovL.  —  See  Immortality  of  tlie  Soul. 

Soxth-Sea  Islanders,  agents  for  the 
conversion  of  the,  i.  56  note. 

SozoMEN  on  the  Arian  bishops,  ii. 
365  note.  On  penalties  imposed  on 
Arians,  374  note;  iii.  105  note.  His 
accoimt  of  the  murder  of  Bishop 
Mark,  iii.  24,  24  note.  On  St. 
Chrysostom,  141  note,  269  note. 
References,  iii.  12,  15,  20,  60,  71, 
75,  100,  108,  278-28i,  286,  316, 
notes. 

Spain,  civilizing  influences  of  Roman 
conquest  in,  i.  10, 11.    Paul's  jour-  j 


ney  thither,  428  mte,  470,  471,  473. 
Curious  tradition  among  the  Span- 
ish Jews,  473.  Its  Roman  provinces 
wasted  by  the  Moors,  ii.  136.  Con- 
stitution of  society  in  later  Roman 
times,  282.  Its  Donatist  communi- 
ties, 314.  Its  representative  at  the 
Council  of  Nice,  368,  369.  Side 
taken  by  it  in  the  Trinitarian  con- 
troversy, iii.  65.  —  See  ii.  330 ;  iii. 
62. 

Spectacles,  public.  —  See  Games  ; 
Gladiators. 

Spirit,  the  Holy.  —  See  Holy  Ghost. 

Spirits,  evil.  —  See  Demoniacs. 

Splenditenens  of  Mani's  system,  ii. 
264,  267  note. 

Spyridon,  a  married  ecclesiastic,  iii. 
286. 

Stanhope,  Earl,  correspondence  on 
human  sacrifices,  i.  35  note. 

Stanley,  Dean,  visit  to  Abraham's 
tomb  by,  ii.  353  note.  —  See  370 
note,  387  note. 

Star  in  the  east  at  Christ's  birth, 
astronomical  considerations  con- 
cerning the,  i.  114,  115  note. 

Stephen,  St.,  tradition  alluded  to 
by,  i.  80.  Animosity  excited  by 
his  successful  preachings,  375.  His 
arraignment  and  martyrdom,  376, 
377.  Its  most  important  result, 
379.  Dispersal  of  the  Christians 
consequent  thereon,  388. 

Stephen,  Bishop  of  Antioch,  igno- 
miniously  deposed,  ii.  424. 

Stilicho,  Ambrose's  reply  to  the  en- 
treaty of,  iii.  174. 

Stilpo,  cause  of  the  exile  of,  i.  453. 

Stoics,  svstem  of  the,  why  suitable 
to  the  Romans,  i.  42,  43.  Their 
portico  in  Athens,  448.  Listeners 
to  St.  Paul,  450.  Difference  be- 
tween their  teachings  and  his,  452. 
Cause  of  their  expulsion  from  Rome, 
ii.  11.  Effect  of  Christian  fortitude 
on  an  imperial  Stoic,  132,  133. 

Stolberg,  Count,  controversial  point 
abandoned  by,  i.  427  note. 

Stoning,  offence  among  the  Jews 
legally  punishable  by,  i.  386  note, 
418. 

Stowell,  Lord,  on  the  origin  of  na- 
tions, i.  17  note. 

Strabo,  coincidence  pointed  out  by, 
i.  42  note.  On  the  necessity  for  re- 
ligious prodigies,  46.  On  the  popn- 
lation  of  Galilee,  193  note.  On  the 
philosophers  of  Tarsus,  379  note. 
Jewish  office  named  by  him,  ii.  21 
note.  —  See  i.  448  note. 


500 


INDEX. 


Strauss's  "  Life  of  Jesus,"  references 
to,  i.  97  note,  106  note.  Critical  re- 
marks on  his  hypothesis,  118-126. 
Later  reprobaters  of  his  "  timid 
orthodoxy,"  126.  His  argument  in 
reference  lo  John  the  Baptist,  152 
note.  And  against  the  genuineness 
of  the  Gospels,  239  note. 

Sturz's  dissertation  on  the  Macedo- 
nian dialect,  iii.  355  note. 

Suetonius  on  the  Jewish  expectation 
of  a  Messiah,  i.  64.  Source  of  the 
weakness  ascribed  by  him  to  Fla- 
vius  Clemens,  ii.  16.  —  See  ii.  11, 
12,  15,  notes. 

SuLPicius  SEVERUSjiii.  82  note.  Style 
and  contents  of  his  life  of  St.  Martin 
of  Tours,  356  note. 

Sun,  preternaturally  eclipsed,  ii.  167. 
Christ's  dwelling,  265,  272.  Julius 
Firmicus  Maternus's  curious  remon- 
strance on  the  luminary's  behalf,  ii. 
469  note. 

SuN-FESTivALS  noted  by  Bohlen,  i. 
20  note. 

SuN-woRSHip,  forced  on  the  Roman 
Senate,  ii.  154.  Sacrifices  and  ex- 
travagances of  Elagabalus  in  regard 
to  it,  173-178.  Its  temple  at  Sir- 
mium,  203.  Diocletian  a  worship- 
per, 215.  Coincidence  of  the  Chris- 
tian sabbath  with  Sun-day,  296,  397. 
Its  fane  at  Constantinople,  336,  341. 
Ardor  of  Julian's  attachment,  469, 
472.  Its  celebration  at  Antioch,  iii. 
17.— See  ii.  359,  404;  iii.  16,  23. 
See  Commodus;  Elagahalus. 

Sunday.  —  See  Sabbath. 

Superstitions  dominant  in  Rome, 
i.  50,  51.  Awake  and  calling  for 
vengeance  on  the  Christians,  ii. 
129.  —  See  Divination ;  Heathenism ; 
Magic  ;  Paganism ;  Polytheism  ; 
Serapis  ;  Sun-worship. 

Supper  of  our  Lord.  —  See  Eucharist. 

Swine,  demoniacally  possessed,  i.  232. 

Sylvanus.  —  See  Silas. 

Symbolism,  Christian;  the  cross,  iii. 
885,  386.  Enumeration  of  various 
early  symbols,  387-390.  Represen- 
tations of  Ihe  Father,  397. 

Symmachus'b  oration  to  Theodosius, 
1.  36  note.  His  lament  on  the  de- 
cadence of  Paganism,  iii.  89.  Style 
and  contents  of  his  "  Apology,"  90, 
91,  164.  High  offices  held  by  him, 
253.  His  reason  for  condemning 
the  suicide  of  captives  intended  for 
gladiatorial  murder,  348.  —  See  84 
note,  98,  338,  341,  344,  notes. 

Stmphorian,  St.,  Acts  of,  ii.  131  "note. 


Symplegades,  parallel  to  the  col- 
lision of  the,  ii.  368. 

Synagogue  of  the  Jews,  teaching 
concerning  the  Messiah  in  the,  i. 
88.  Synagogue  of  Nazareth,  185. 
Of  Capernaum,  188,  237.  Miracle 
in  one,  218.  Their  multitude  in 
Jerusalem,  402.  No  sanctity  about 
them  in  the  eyes  of  converts,  424. 
The  Proseucha,  445.  Augustus's 
law  for  their  protection,  457.  Dif- 
ference between  the  synagogue  and 
the  church,  ii.  22,  23.  —  See  i.  66 
note;  ii.  21,  20  note,  22. 

Synesius,  clerical  celibacy  repudiated 
by,  iii.  286.  His  character  and  opin- 
ions, 301,  302.  His  resolute  dealing 
with  Andronicus,  301.  His  hymns, 
359  note. 

Synods  and  councils  of  the  Church, 
iii.  268,  290.  —  See  Councils. 

Syria,  debasing  effect  on  the  Jews 
of  the  religions  of,  i.  70.  Migra- 
tion of  converts  to  its  regions,  388. 
Christian  colonies  planted  by  St. 
Paul,  406,  473.  Its  dissolute  rites, 
405.  Hymns  sung  by  its  Christian 
population,  ii.  78.  Invaded,  135. 
Object  of  Severus's  edict,  159.  De- 
struction of  and  war  against  its 
temples,  349;  iii.  70,  81.  Effect  of 
Arius's  intercourse  with  its  bishops, 
ii.  365,  366-373,  379.  Law  based 
on  the  laxity  of  its  morals,  401  note. 
Poetic  exponent  of  its  dreamy  mys- 
ticism, iii.  106,  109.  Its  gladiatorial 
shows,  349.  Its  national  Paganism, 
see  Sun-worship.  See  also  ii.  107, 
116,  147,  180,  232,  246. 

Syrian  historians  of  the  early  Church, 
ii.  17. 

Syrianus,  Duke,  assault  on  Athana- 
sius  and  his  congregation  by  the 
troops  of  ii.  432,  433. 

Syriarchs,  the,  iii.  337. 

Syrophcenician  woman,  considera- 
tion on  Jesus'  interview  with  the, 
i.  244-246. 


T. 


Tabernacles,  Feast  of,  i.  251.  Ap- 
pearance of  Jesus  thereat,  253-255. 

Tabor,  Mount,  and  the  transfigura- 
tion, i.  250  note. 

Tacitus,  Roman  historian,  on  the  re 
ligion  of  the  Jews,  i.  32  note.  His 
denunciation  of  astrologers,  51  text 
and  note.  On  the  Jewish  expecta- 
tion of  a  Messiah,  64.    On  the  iu- 


INDEX. 


501 


fluence  of  a  belief  in  a  future  state, 
82.  On  the  influence  of  Pallas  with 
Nero,  416  note.  On  the  implication 
of  the  Christians  in  the  burning  of 
Rome,  468  note  ;  ii.  9. 10,  and  9  note. 
On  an  amiable  phase  of  tyranny,  ii. 
6  note.  —  See  i.  467  note,  469  note  ; 
ii.  11  note;  iii.  73  note 

Talismans  and  amulets,  fame  of 
Ephesus  for,  i.  457. 

Talmud,  Babylonian,  i.  69;  ii.  253. 

Talmud,  Jewish,  references  to  the,  i. 
71  note,  76  note.  Character  of  its 
contents,  123.  Figurative  allusions 
to  the  Messiah,  148  note.  Harsh 
conclusions  deducible  from  passages 
in  it,  149  note.  Parallel  to  John  the 
Baptist's  shoe-latchet  simile,  161 
note.  Its  contrast  of  the  Jews  and 
Galileans,  191,  192  note.  Talmudic 
interpretation  of  a  prophecy  of 
Daniel,  288.  Eftect  of  its__accept- 
ance  as  the  national  code,  ii.  22.  — 
See  i.  301  note;  iii.  265. 

Targumin  of  the  Rabbins,  the,  i.  66 
note.  Term  applied  by  the  Targu- 
mists  to  the  Messiah,  81. 

Tarsus,  Paul's  birthplace,  i.  379. 
Philosophical  and  travelling  habits 
of  its  natives,  ibid.  note. 

Tartar  or  Turkoman  tribes,  religion 
of  the,  ii.  252. 

Titian  on  public  amusements,  iii.  339 
note. 

Taxes  in  Jerusalem,  how  paid,  i.  166 
note.  —  See  Tribute. 

Taylor,  Jeremy,  on  the  massacre 
of  the  innocents,  i.  116  note. 

Te  Deum,  reputed  author  of  the,  iii. 
359. 

Telemachus  the  Monk,  a  martyr  to 
his  heroic  humanity,  iii.  350. 

Temple  of  the  Jews.  —  See  Jerusalem, 
Temple  of;  Solomon''s  Temple. 

Temples  of  the  Heathens.  —  See 
Apollo;  Castor  and  Pollux;  Baalbec; 
Pagan  temples  ;  Serapis  ;  Sirmium  ; 
Sun-iDorship. 

Temple-tax,  how  levied  in  Jerusa- 
lem, i.  166  text  and  note.  Vespa- 
sian's idolatrous  appropriation  of  it, 
ii.  11.  — See  i.  Zm  mte. 

Temptation,  the,  i.  154.  Theories 
respecting  it,  154-156.  Site  of  its 
occurrence,  157. 

Terminalia,  feast  of,  ii.  220. 

Terminus,  the  Roman  deity,  attribute 
personitied  by,  i.  27. 

Tertullian  on  Chrestos  and  Chris- 
tos,  i.  407  note.  His  feelings  relative 
to  the  Jews,  434  text  and  note.    On 


St.  John's  cauldron  of  boiling  oil, 
ii.  18.  Mosheim's  reading  of  the 
passage,  18  note.  On  the  adoption 
of  celibacy,  41  note.  His  epithet 
for  Hadrian,  108  note.  On  the  loy- 
alty of  Christians  to  the  ruling 
power,  119  note.  His  use  of  the 
word  "  Sseculum,"  121.  On  the 
miracle  of  the  thundering  legion, 
147.  Character  of  his  writings, 
166;  iii.  182,  356,  367.  Form  of 
Christianity  of  which  he  was  the 
type,  ii.  164-166.  Tone  of  his 
"Apology";  his  denunciation  of 
Paganism,  166,  167.  Contrast  be- 
tween him  and  Origen,  167  note. 
And  between  him  and  Cyprian,  196. 
Inference  from  his  passage  relative 
to  the  Christians  in  the  East,  212 
note.  On  the  difference  between 
clergy  and  laity,  iii.  263  note.  On 
confession  and  penance,  298.  His 
charge  against  heretics,  313  note. 
On  martyr-festivals,  329  note,  425 
note.  On  the  abuse  of  the  Agapae, 
329  note.  Two  sins  charged  by  him 
on  Hermogenes,  383.  On  an  em- 
bossed communion  cup,  387.  On 
the  Saviour's  personal  aspect,  391. 
On  the  character  of  the  Virgin,  430 
note.  —  See  ii.  117 ;  iii.  202,  268, 
293,  318,  408,  notes. 

Testament,  New.  —  See  Gospels  ; 
New  Testament. 

Testament,  Old.  —  See  Old  Testa- 
ment. 

Tetra-Grammaton,  the  wonder- 
working word,  i.  230  note,  459. 

Thales  the  Milesian,  and  his  princi- 
ple of  moisture,  ii.  86  n^te. 

Thalia,  poem  by  Arius,  its  style  and 
contents,  ii.  365,  366  note. 

Thapsus,  Battle  of,  ii.  162. 

Theatre,  the,  in  Polytheistic  times, 
nature  of  its  exhibitions,  i.  441  note. 
Rome's  burning,  made  a  theatrical 
show  by  Nero,  470  note.  Jew  play- 
ers and  Jew  audiences,  ii.  99,  100. 
The  theatre  in  Constantinople,  398. 
The  theatre  deserted  for  the  church, 
iii.  130.  Various  kinds  of  perform- 
ances, 341,  343.  Character,  privi- 
leges, and  disabilities  of  fem<Oe 
players,  345,  346.  Baptismal  pri Al- 
leges of  actors,  346.  Penalty  on 
actresses'  daughters  and  on  back- 
sliding actresses,  346. 

Theiner's  work  on  celibacy  its 
merits,  iii.  202  note,  361  note.  His 
list  of  monk-prelates,  226  note.  — 
See  283  note. 


602 


•INDEX. 


Thebhstius  on  Jovian's  toleration, 
iii.  35  note.  His  address  to  and 
flatteries  of  Theodosius,  64,  99  7iote. 
Office  conferred  on  him,  253.  —  See 
371  note. 

Theodora,  the  empress,  exhibiting 
as  a  public  dancer,  iii.  343. 

Theodore  of  Mopsuestia,  his  theory 
of  the  Temptation,  i.  154  note. 

Theodoret  on  Constantine's  sup- 
pression of  Paganism,  ii.  389.  On 
the  Christian  rejoicings  at  Julian's 
death,  iii.  33  note.  On  Valentinian's 
conduct,  36  note,  157  note.  On 
Ephrem's  learning,  109  note.  On 
martyr-festivals,  328  note.  Refer- 
ences, 12,  20,  24,  31,  35,  37,  60,  71, 
157,  350,  notes. 

Theodokic,  interest  taken  in  public 
games  by,  iii.  337  note,  352  note. 
His  fondness  for  art,  376,  377. 

Theodorus,  St ,  painting  of  the  heroic 
acts  of,  iii.  402-403  note. 

Theodosian  Code,  ii.  402  note.  Its 
contents  and  value,  iii.  244.  More 
important  citations  from  it;  con- 
cerning extravagance  in  costume, 
252  note.  Admission  to  orders,  255 
note.  Property  of  intestates,  280 
note.  Exemption  of  bishops  from 
civil  jurisdiction,  289  note.  Inter- 
marriage of  Jews  and  Christians, 
293  note.  Marital  rights  and  pen- 
alties, 294 -2y5  note,  296  note. 
Against  heresy,  304,  305  note. 
Ti-eatment  of  prisoners,  306  note. 
Burials,  325  note.  Against  selling 
martyrs'  bodies,  329  note.  Penalties 
for  kidnapping,  348  note.  Preserva- 
tion of  statues,  384,  384  note.  Pro- 
hibition of  relique  worship,  426  note. 

Theodosius  the  Great,  bibylline  fore- 
sight of  the  iconoclasm  of,  ii.  124. 
Act  adduced  in  justification  of  his 
severities  against  the  Pagans,  iii. 
11  note.  Causes  of  priestly  influ- 
ence over  him,  63,  64.  Pagan  and 
Christian  joy  at  his  accession,  64. 
His  origin ;  character  of  his  Chris- 
tianity, 64,  65.  His  edicts  for  the 
suppression  of  Pagan  sacrifices,  65, 
66.  His  agents  in  the  demolition  of 
Pagan  temples,  and  their  proceed- 
ings, 68. —  See  Paganism;  Serapis. 
His  penalties  on  apostates,  88  note, 
105,  258  note.  Themistius's  flat- 
teries, 99  note.  His  laws  against 
heretics,  104, 105.  Trinitarian  hopes 
on  his  accession,  118.  His  edict 
against  the  Arians,  120.  Occasion 
^  the  revolt  of,  and  insults  offered 


to  him  by,  the  people  of  Antioch, 
127,  128.  Their  subsequent  panic 
and  sufferings,  128,  129.  Result  of 
appeals  to  his  mercy,  129-133.  His 
accession  to  sole  power,  168.  Oc- 
casion of  his  rebuke  by  Ambrose, 
168,  169.  His  massacre  of  the 
Thessalonians  and  subsequent  pen- 
ance for  the  same,  171,  172  His 
victorv  over  Eugenius  and  death, 
97,  174.  —  See  ii.  394. 

Theodosius  the  younger,  ii.  336. 

Theognis,  Bishop  of  Nic^a,  one  of 
the  five  recusant  bishops,  ii.  370. 
Banished,  ibid.  Anathema  pro- 
tested against  by  him,  376.  Rein- 
stated, 377.  Charge  against  Eusta- 
thius  joined  in  by  him,  378. 

Theogoxism  of  the  East,  ii.  58. 

Theology,  primary  blessing  lost 
sight  of  in,  i.  354  note.  Elements 
of  rational  and  intellectual  Christi- 
anity, iii.  417.  Augustinian  the- 
ology, iii.  176-180.  —  See  Augus- 
tine. 

Theonas  of  Marmai-ica,  ii.  366  note. 
One  of  the  five  recusant  bishops, 
373. 

Theophilosophic  systems  of  Rome; 
deification  by  Alexander  Severus 
of  their  representatives,  ii.  181. 

Theophilus,  Archbishop  of  Alexan- 
dria, iii.  59,  74.  Murderous  result 
of  his  exposure  of  Pagan  symbols, 
75.  His  share  in  the  destruction  of 
the  Serapeum,  77,  78.  Bold  and 
unprincipled,  106.  His  conduct  in 
his  see;  character  of  his  Avritings, 
107,  108.  Anathema  upon  Origen- 
ism,  108.  Intrigues  against  Chr}-- 
sostom  and  presumed  object  thereof, 
119  note,  142.  His  Council  of  the 
Oak  and  its  decision,  143-145.  His 
flight  from  Constantinople,  147. 
Cause  of  his  quarrel  with  the  monks. 
218. 

Theoretica,  object  of  the,  iii.  336. 
Confiscated  by  Justinian,  ibid. 

Theotecnus,  efforts  to  restore  Pagan- 
ism of,  ii.  235.  His  detected  impos- 
tures and  death,  242. 

Ther  apeut.e,  or  contemplatist  monks 
of  Egypt,  i.  163;  ii.  40.  Their 
Jewish  ancestors,  ii.  45. 

Thessalonica,  synagogues  of  the 
Jews,  at,  i.  407.  Occasion  of  their 
flight  thither;  proportion  of  Jews, 
Greeks,  and  Turks  in  its  population. 
407  text  and  note.  Occasion  oi 
Paul's  first  epistle  to  its  people,  409 
note.    Cause  of  the  expulsion  of 


INDEX. 


503 


Paul  and  his  companions,  448. 
Antoninus  Pius's  edict,  ii.  1 13.  Mas- 
sacre under  Theodosius,  iii.  170, 
171. 

Thkudas,  insurrection  of,  i.  372,  395. 

Thkui;gy  of  Appollonius,  ii.  181,  lh7. 
Sacrifices  connected  with  it,  392. 
Theurgists  of  Julian's  days,  iii.  17. 

Thihet,  alleged  virgin  birth  of  the 
hbaka  of,  i.  103  note.  Its  ascetic 
devotees,  ii.  39. 

Thilo,  Dr  ,  collection  of  spurious  gos- 
pels by,  iii  364  tiote. 

Thiki  wall,  Dr  Connop,  Bishop  of 
St.  David's,  character  of  a  work,  of, 
i.  in  note. 

Tholuck,  M.,  views  of,  relative  to  the 
era  of  Christ's  birth,  i.  108,  111, 
nutes. 

Th^.mas,  St.,  the  apostle,  i.  222. 
Eegion  of  his  labors,  397 ;  ii,  252. 

Thkasea,  Roman  patriot,  ii.  11,  45. 

Thucydidks,  vital  principle  in  the 
writings  of,  iii.  11. 

Thyatika,  Ly dia's  residence  at,  i. 
445. 

Thyestean  feasts  charged  on  the 
Christians,  ii.  149. 

Tiber,  consequences  of  an  inundation 
of  the,  ii.  135.  — See  285,  333. 

Tiberias,  Jewish  Patriarch  of,  i.  434; 
ii,  253. 

Tiberias,  Sea  of,  i.  1 14  note.  Its  city 
and  people,  163, 193  note.  Removal 
of  the  Sanhedrin  thither,  421. 

TiBERius's  edict  relative  to  human 
sacrifices,  i  34  note.  Averse  to  his 
own  deification,  37  note.  Astrolo- 
gers banished  by  him,  51.  Ele- 
ments in  his  character,  340.  His 
death,  372.  Cruelties  of  his  time, 
470.  Divination  interdicted  by  him, 
ii.  297. 

Tiberius  Alexander,  the  apostate 
preiect,  i.  395 

Tillemont,  a  defender  of  Hegesip- 
pus's  narrative,  i.  419  note.  On  the 
date  of  the  earliest  Christian 
churches,  ii.  182  note.  His  conjec- 
ture relative  to  Hosius,  368.  On 
Lampadius's  religion,  iii.  43  n<>te. 
His  perplexity  about  Gregory  of 
Nazianzum,  114no<e.  Humiliating 
truth  confessed  by  him,  141  note. — 
See  ii.  11  note;  iii.  108,  112,  118, 
122,  156,  183,  233,  366,  m>tes. 

TiMOTHEUS,  or  Timothy,  admitted  to 
Jewish  privileges,  i.  406.  His  pa- 
rentage, 443  note.  Mission  on  which 
he  accompanied  Paul,  409  note,  444, 
473.    Their  separation,  448.    Move- 


ments of  Paul  dependent  on  him, 
471  note.  Paul's  Second  Epistle  to 
him,  473. 

TiKiDATES,  King  of  Armenia,  Oriental 
bigotry  of,  ii.  261.  His  cruel  treat- 
ment of  Gregory  the  Illuminator, 
261.  Occasion  of  his  conversion, 
261,  262. 

Titus,  Emperor,  resistance  of  the 
Jews  to,  i.  148  note.  —  See  ii.  56 
note. 

Titus,  mission  confided  to,  i.  472. 

ToBiT,  transition  of  belief  traceable 
in  the  book  of,  i.  77  W'te. 

Toledo.  —  See  Councils. 

Tongues,  Gift  of,  i.  364-366. 

Torture,  inquisitorial  use  of,  ii.  96. 

TouKNAJNiENTs,  Origin  of,  iii.  352 
note. 

TowNSON,  Dr.,  suggestion  of,  relative 
to  Jesus  and  the  woman  of  Sama- 
ria, i.  179  7iote. 

Trachonitis,  robbers  of  the,  i.  114 
note. 

Tradition,  its  influence  on  the  Jew- 
ish notions  of  a  Messiah,  i.  66,  67. 
"  The  hedge  of  the  law,"  211. 

Traditors  and  the  crime  of  tradition, 
quarrels  relating  to,  ii.  3U4-306, 
307-310. 

Tragedy  and  comedy  on  the  Roman 
stage,  iii.  341. 

Trajan,  Emperor,  condition  of  Rome 
and  Christianity  in  the  first  years 
of,  ii.  6,  10.  The  Jews,  14.  Effect 
of  his  discipline  and  military  suc- 
cesses, 91.  His  mental  character- 
istics, 93.  His  politic  regard  for 
human  life,  94.  Value  of  his  corre- 
spondence with  Pliny,  95.  His 
dealings  with  the  Christians,  96.  97, 
97  note.,  102-106.  Jewish  rebellion 
under  him,  102,  103.  His  probable 
ignorance  of  the  differences  between 
Jews  and  Christians,  104,  105. 
Popish  legend  of  his  release  from 
purgatory,  107.  Rescript  against 
delation,  110,  111  note. — See  ii. 
125,  455. 

Transfiguration,  the,  i.  250.  Ques- 
tion as  to  its  locality,  ibid.  note. 

Treves,  ii.  248.  Exposure  of  cap- 
tives in  its  arena,  293,  325 ;  iii.  349. 
Seat  of  Constantine's  councils,  ii. 
299,  317.  Place  of  Athanasius's 
exile,  385.  Barbarian  desolations; 
fondness  for  the  circus,  3-34  note. 

Tribute,  petition  of  Judaea  and  Syri& 
for  remission  of  the,,  i.  140  note. 
Its  hatefuliiess,  280.  Jesus'  cele* 
brated  reply,  300  note. 


504 


INDEX. 


Teinitarianism  and  the  Trinitarian 
controversy,  ii.  301.  Period  of  the 
outbreak  of  the  controversy,  354. 
Its  origin,  356.  Principle  involved 
in  it,  357.  Notions  of  Noetus  and 
Sabellius,  360,  361.  General  ac- 
ceptance of  the  doctrine  of  a  Trinity, 
362.  Arian  conception,  ibid.  Prin- 
ciple of  union  among  Arius's  oppo- 
nents, 363,  364.  Usual  imputation 
of  Arians  against  Trinitarians,  378. 
Effect  of  the  controversy  in  the 
West,  420.  Triumph  of  Trinitarian- 
ism  under  Theodosius;  formulary 
proclaimed  by  him  and  his  co-rulers, 
iii.  104.  Trinitarian  doctrines  main- 
tained in  Alexandria  by  Didymus 
the  Blind,  107  note.  First  supporter 
of  Nicene  Trinitarianism,  114.  —  See 
Arius  ;  Athanasius;  Niccea  ;  Nicene 
Creed. 

Trisagion,  the,  iii.  323. 

Troas,  Paul's  visits  to,  i.  463,  472. 

Trojan  war,  typical  use  of  the,  ii.  52 
note. 

Trophiisius,  charge  against  Paul 
concerning,  i.  411. 

Trullo.  —  See  Councils. 

TsABAisM,  character  and  followers  of, 
i.  19,  20.  Sources  of  information, 
ibid.  note.  —  See  ii.  79,  252. 

Tschirner's  "Fall  des  Heiden- 
thuras,"  value  of,  ii.  120. 

TuKAN,  principle  represented  in  Ma- 
gianism  by,  ii.  256. 

Turkestha'n,  seclusion  of  Mani  in, 
ii.  267.  C'-nference  between  him 
and  Archelaus  there,  268  note. 

Twelve  Tables,  penalty  for  divina- 
tion by  the  laws  of  the,  ii.  297. 

Tyraxnus,  cession  to  Paul  of  the 
school  of,  i.  458. 

Tyre,  Paul's  voyage  to,  i.  463.  Maxi- 
min's  answer  to  its  address,  ii.  237. 
Alagnilicence  of  its  rebuilt  church, 
242,  243,  348;  iii.  378.  Occasion 
and  upshot  of  Athanasius's  appear- 
ance before  its  synod,  ii.  382,  383. 


U. 

Ulphilas,  Bishop  of  the  Goths,  de- 
scent of,  iii.  59.  His  translation  of 
the  Scriptures,  and  alleged  reason 
for  omitting  the  book  of  Kings, 
60.  Fragments  of  his  version  now 
extant,  60  note.  Modern  editions 
of  same,  60  note.  Doctrinal  result 
of  his  visit  to  the  Constantinopoli- 
tan  court,  61,  62.     His  Bible  the 


Bible  of  all  the  Gothic  races,  62 
note. 

Unity  of  the  Godhead. —  See  Deity; 
God;   Trinitarian  Controversy. 

Ursacius,  Roman  general,  killed  by 
the  Circumcellions,  ii.  312. 

Ursacius,  Bishop  of  Singidunum; 
and  Valeiis,  Bishop  of  Mursa,  es- 
pousal of  Arianism  by,  ii.  422.  Re- 
cant, 424.  Relapse,  425.  Head  the 
Arians  at  Milan,  428. 

Ursicinus,  sanguinary  episcopal  com- 
bat between  Damasus  and,  iii.  266, 
279. 

Utica,  preternatural  eclipse  of  the 
sun  at,  ii.  167. 


V. 

VALCKNiER's  treatise,  "  De  Aristo- 
bulo  Jud^eo,"  ii.  122  note. 

Valens,  Bishop  of  Mursa,  revival  of 
his  influence  over  Constantius,  ii. 
425.  —  See  Ursacius,  Bishop. 

Valens,  emperor  of  the  East,  con- 
demnation of  the  Manicheans  un- 
der, ii.  279  note.  Kefused  to  serve 
in  Julian's  army,  iii  13  note.  His 
accession;  difference  between  him 
and  Valentinian,  36.  His  dealing 
with  Paganism,  magic,  and  divina- 
tion, 37,  38.  Magical  ceremonies 
having  relation  to  himself,  44,  45. 
Number  and  eminence  of  the  vic- 
tims to  his  fears  and  vengeance,  45, 
46.  Ascendency  of  Arianism  under 
him,  48.  His  baptism  and  amena- 
bility to  sacerdotal  influence,  49. 
Crime  laid  to  his  charge,  49.  His 
interview  with  Basil  and  its  effect 
upon  him,  49,  50.  His  approaching 
fate,  51.  Compels  the  monks  to 
become  soldiers,  52  note.  His  de- 
fensors, 56.  Power  given  by  him 
to  ecclesiastical  courts,  289  note.  — 
Seeii.  425;  iii.  59,  63. 

Valentinian,  emperor  of  the  West, 
condemnation  of  the  Manicheans 
under,  ii.  279  note.  Refused  to  serve 
in  Julian's  army,  iii.  13  note,  36. 
View  taken  of  his  toleration  by  Pa- 
gans and  Christians,  36.  His  revo- 
cation of  Pagan  endowments,  37. 
His  cruelties  in  the  suppression  of 
magic;  his  two  bears,  S8,  40. 
Brutalities  of  his  representative  at 
Rome,  40-42.  Occasion  of  his  put- 
ting Amantius  and  Lollianus  to 
death,  43.  Escheats  the  revenues 
of  Pagan  temples,  69.    His  decree 


INDEX. 


505 


against  condemnations  to  the  arena, 
850.  — Seeiii.  46,  87. 

Valentinian  II.,  joint-emperor  of 
the  West,  iii.  62.  Pagan  asso- 
ciations from  which  his  mind  was 
free,  84.  Sole  emperor  of  the  West, 
89.  Rival  appeals  of  the  Pagan  and 
Christian  champions  to  him,  90-93. 
Date  of  his  murder,  93.  Promul- 
gation of  faith  of  himself  and  co- 
emperors,  104.  Power  asserted 
under,  and  protection  afforded  to, 
him  by  Ambrose,  158,  160.  Anec- 
dotes apropos  thereto,  162,  163,  163 
note.  His  throne  secured  by  Theo- 
dosius,  167.  His  death,  174.  Refer- 
ences to  his  laws,  278,  280,  293,  296, 
notes. 

Valentinianism,  the  Gnostic  system 
of  Valentinus,  ii.  72-76.  Work  con- 
taining a  development  of  it,  73  note, 
77  note.  Consequences  of  an  impe- 
rial order  for  restoration  of  a  de- 
stroyed church  of  the  sect,  iii. 
168,  169. 

Valentinus,  the  Gnostic  hierophant, 
ii.  61,  68.  His  repeated  excommu- 
nications from  the  Christian  Church, 
and  retirement  to  Cyprus,  72.  Es- 
sential principle  of  his  system,  73. 
Psalms  written  by  him,  77  note; 
iii.  408.  His  reception  at  Rome,  ii. 
87.  —  See  Vahntinianism. 

Valeria,  wife  of  Galerius,  suspected 
of  Christianity,  ii.  208.  Forced  to 
sacrifice  to  Pagan  gods,  223.  Maxi- 
min's  insult;  her  forced  wanderings 
and  unjustiliable  sentence,  238. 

Valerian,  Emperor,  promising  com- 
mencement of  the  reign  of,  ii.  194. 
His  initiator  into  magic  and  insti- 

fator  to  acts  of  persecution,  195. 
[artyrdom  of  Cyprian  under  his 
rule,  197-201.  His  captivity  and 
(alleged)  fearful  end,  202. 

Valhalla  of  Odin,  interdicted  to 
slaves,  i.  53. 

Vandals,  effect  on  Africa  of  their  in- 
vasions, ii.  162.  Form  of  Christiani- 
ty embraced  by  them,  iii.  61. 

Vartobed,  or  Patriarch  of  Armenia, 
usual  fate  and  glory  of  the,  ii.  259. 

Varus,  ii.  455. 

Vatican  suburb  in  Rome,  its  usual 
occupants  from  earliest  times,  ii.  298. 

Veda,  right  associated  by  the  Brah- 
mins with  the,  ii.  39  note. 

Venice  of  the  Old  World,  the,  i.  453. 

Venus,  supernatural  cause  of  the  raz- 
ing of  a  temple  of,  ii.  352. 

Venus   Aphrodite.  —  See  Aphrodite. 


Venus  (Cypris),  ii.  840  note.  Ve- 
nus Urania,  ii.  178.  Venus  Verte- 
cordia,  her  attributes,  i.  27. 

Verona,  Battle  of,  important  issue  de- 
cided by  the,  ii.  285,  287. 

Verus,  Emperor,  reply  of  Bardesanes 
to  the  Pagan  emissary  of,  ii.  78. 
Associated  in  empire  with  Marcus 
Aurelius,  134.  Terrible  accompani- 
ment to  his  victory,  135. 

Vespasian,  Emperor,  a  patron  of 
astrologers,  i.  51.  Identitied  bv  Jo- 
sephus  with  the  Messiah,  66  "note, 
89.  Objects  aimed  at  by  him,  ii. 
11.  Anxious  to  curb  far  other  ene- 
mies than  the  Christians,  11.  His 
application  of  the  Jewish  Temple- 
tax,  ibid.  His  provision  in  Rome 
for  education,  iii.  10. 

Vestal  virgins  of  Rome,  ii.  403. 
Reservation  of  their  privileges  im- 
der  Valentinian,  iii.  37.  Falling 
into  disrepute,  88.  Ambrose's  sar- 
casms upon  them,  88,  92.  Symma- 
chus's  appeal  for  them,  91.  Their 
suppression  urged  by  Prudentius, 
98.  Place  assigned  to  them  at  pub- 
lic spectacles,  339.  Christian  vir- 
gins, see  Virginity. 

Vettius  Epagathus,  brave  defence 
of  the  Christians  of  Vienna  by,  ii. 
148. 

Victory,  statue  of,  doomed,  and  drag- 
ged from  its  pedestal,  iii.  87.  Re- 
stored by  Eugenius,  93,  94.  Pru- 
dentius's  allusion  to  the  circum- 
stance, 97. 

ViENNE,  narrative  of  martyrdoms  at, 
ii.  147-151.  Imputations  shrunk 
from  by  its  church,  165  note. 

Vigilantius,  prematureness  of  the 
Protestantism  of,  iii.  238.  Abused 
by  Jerome,  240,  241. 

ViLLEMAiN,  M.,  on  the  appeal  of 
Chrysostom's  mother,  iii.  125  note. 

Virgil's  theory  of  the  universe,  i.  49. 
Complexion  of  his  philosophy,  60 
note.  His  possible  obligations  to 
Alexandrian  versifiers  of  the  He- 
brew Scriptures,  ii.  122  note. 

ViHGiN  M;iry,  paintings  and  worship 
of  the.  —  See  Mary  the  Virgin. 

Virgin,  Oriental  traditions  of  super- 
natural birth  from  a,  i.  103  note. 

Virginity,  eloquence  of  the  Fathers 
on  ^  the  subject  of,  iii.  202,  203. 
Chief  writers  thereon,  ibid,  notes. 
Vows  to  virginity  compared  with 
the  number  of  births  in  certain  re- 
gions, 219  note.  —  See   Vestal  ViT' 


506 


INDEX. 


Visigoths,  Frank  pretext  for  a  war 

with  the,  ii.  355  note.  —  See  iii.  61 

note.     See  also  Goths. 
ViTELLius,  triumphant  reception  by 

the  Jews  of,  i.  377  9Wte.     Object  of 

his  warlike  preparations,  and  cause 

of  their  suspension,  383. 
ViTKiNGA  on  the   functions  of  the 

chief  of  the  synagogue,  ii.  22  note. 
ViviA  Perpetua.  —  See  Perpetua. 
Voices  ti-om  heaven,  to  Hyrcanus,  i. 

97  note.    At  the  baptism  of  Jesus, 

152.  Explanatory  remarks,  153  note, 

295  note. 
Voss  on  the  astronomy,  &c.,  of  the 

Fathers,  iii.  422  note. 
VossiL's,  absurdity  pointed  out  by,  i. 

116  note.     Citations  from  his  "  His- 

toria  Pelagiana,"  iii.  178  note,  181 

note. 
Vulgate  Bible,  the  depository  of  the 

Latin  tongue,  iii.   56.      Character 

of  its  Latin,  357. 

W. 

Walixjn  on  the  slavery  of  antiquity, 
iii.  246  note. 

Walsh,  Rev.  R.,  on  a  medallic  repre- 
sentation of  the  Saviour,  iii.  395 
note. 

Wahburton's  theory  of  the  myste- 
ries, i.  39  note  ;  ii.  109  note. 

Weisse's  work  on  the  Evangelical 
wi-itings,  its  character  and  object, 
i.  124,  125.  Resemblance  of  his 
system  to  Philo's,  126.  Distinction 
drawn,  but  not  always  observed,  by 
him,  130. 

VVes  tekn  Empire,  effect  on  Christian- 
ity of  its  extinction,  ii.  334. 

Wetsteix,  i.  80  note.  On  the  deri- 
vation of  Nicolas,  ii.  59  note. 

Whately,  Archbishop,  theory  of  sav- 
age life  controverted  by,  i  17  note. 
Passages  in  Milman's  "  Bampton 
Lectures"  quoted  by  him,  440  note. 

Wheler's  Travels,  notices  of  Grecian 
architecture  in,  iii.  82  note. 

Whewell's  "  Inductive  Sciences," 
iii.  422  note. 

Whitby  on  remission  of  sins,  i.  107 
note. 

Widow's  mite,  the,  i.  303. 

Widow's  son,  mix-acle  of  the  raising 
of  the,  i.  224. 

Wills,  persons  prohibited  from  mak- 
ing, iii.  105.  Taken  into  ecclesias- 
tical keeping,  296. 

Wilson,  Pr.fessor  H.  H.,  ii.  39  note. 
His  "  Hindu  Theatre,"  41  note. 


Westdischm an's  "  Philosophic  in  fort- 
gang  der  Weltgeschichte,"  merit  of, 
ii.  36  note. 

"  Wisdom  "  of  the  Gnostics.  —  See 
S"phi:x. 

"  Wisdom  of  Solomon,"  Messianic 
notions  in  the,  i.  86.  Notion  trace- 
able in  it,  263  note. 

"  Wise  men"  in  the  synagogues,  ii. 
23. 

Wiseman,  Cardinal,  romance  of,  iii. 
333  note. 

Witchcraft.  —  See  Magic. 

Wives,  when  unfit  for  the  kingdom 
of  heaven,  iii.  284  note. 

Woman  taken  in  adulter}',  conduct 
of  Jesus  with  regard  to  the,  i.  257, 
258. 

Women.  —  See  Females. 

Women-players,  under  the  Romans, 
their  number,  character,  and  privi- 
leges, iii.  345,  346.  Penalty  on 
apostate  actresses,  346. 

Word,  the,  or  Logos,  i.  80,  87.  In 
the  Gnostic  system,  ii.  73.  —  See 
Logos. 

Wordsworth's  sonnet  to  the  Virgin 
Mary,  i.  105  note. 

World,  belief  among  the  Jews  of  the 
approaching  end  of  the,  i.  429. 

Worship  of  the  Virgin  and  the  saints. 
—  See  Ma7'y  the  Virgin;  Saints. 


Xenophon's  "  Cyropsedia,"  i.  57.  ^ 
Xerxes,   destruction  of  Babylonian 

deities  and  priests  by,  i.  12  riote. 

Revival  of  the  old  religion  in  his 

dominions,  ii.  253. 


Y. 

Yathas,  Gathas,  and  Vendidads  of 

Zaratushtra,  i.  75  note. 
York,  discover}'  of  vestiges  of  Isiac 

worship  at,  i.  49  note. 


Z. 


Zaccheus's  practical  testimony  to  his 
belief  in  Jesus,  i.  279. 

Zachariah,  father  of  John  the  Bap- 
tist, i.  94.  His  unusual  .stay  in  the 
Holy  Place,  and  vision  there,  95-97. 
Divine  promise  then  made  to  him, 
and  affliction  nccompanying  it,  96, 
97.     His  return  to  his'  home,  98. 


INDEX. 


507 


Question  raised  as  to  its  locality, 
ibid.  note.  Birth  of  his  son,  and  re- 
moval of  his  affliction,  106,  107. 

Zakinim,  or  elders  of  the  Jews,  ii.  21. 

Zakatushtra  Spitama,  i.  75  note. 
Principle  of  evil  in  her  theology, 
78  note. 

Zealots,  doctrinal  descendants  of 
Judas  the  Gaulonite,  i.  142.  Mean- 
ing of  zealot,  222,  223. 

Zechariah's  prophecy  fulfilled,  1. 
292. 

Zend,  records  of  the  Zoroastrian  faith 
in  the,  ii.  254. 

Zenda VESTA,  institutes  of  the,  i.  73. 
Their  discovery  by  Du  Perron,  ibid, 
note.  Inquiries  of  various  authors 
regarding  them,  and  result  thereof, 
73-75  notes.  Dogma  drawn  by 
Basilides  therefrom,  ii.  68.  —  See 
Arnschasjmnds ;  Zoroaster. 

Zeno,  i.  450;  ii.  182. 

Zenobia,  her  politic  indifference  in 
religious  matters,  ii.  203.  Favor 
shown  by  her  to  Paul  of  Samosata, 
203,  204.  Result  of  the  failure  of 
her  designs  on  Syria,  205. 

Zeuxippus,  statues  in  the  gj^mnasiura 
of,  ii.  340  note. 

Zoe,  or  life  in  the  Gnostic  system, 
ii.  73. 

Zoroaster  and  Zoroastrianism,  no- 
tions of  various  writers  on,  i.  72. 
Symbol   emblemed  by  his  name, 


ibid.  note.  Originality  of  the  sys- 
tem, 73.  His  probable  intercourse 
with  Daniel,  ibid.^  Rhode's  theoiy 
regarding  him,  ibid.  note.  Basis 
of  Zoroastrianism,  79.  Its  idea  of 
a  resurrection  and  of  a  Messiah, 
82-84.  Effect  of  its  revival  on 
Christianity,  ii.  34,  251.  Embodi- 
ment of  some  of  its  tenets  in  Juda- 
ism, 45,  66.  Its  fusion  with  the 
various  Gnostic  and  heretical  sys- 
tems, 68,  77,  81  note,  84,  263,  268, 
271.  Region  of  its  re-asserted  su- 
premacy, 253.  Its  antiquity  and 
transitions,  254.  Its  recusants,  255 
note.  Effect  of  Ardeschir's  edict  in 
its  favor,  256.  Persecutions  by  its 
followers,  257. 

ZosiJius,  report  relative  to  Constan- 
tino preserved  by,  ii.  329.  The 
story  not  his  invention,  330  note. 
On  "^an  oracle  concerning  Bvzan- 
tium,  339  note.  On  the  mutilation 
of  Pagan  statues,  340  note.  On  the 
Delphic  tripod,  341.  On  the  ap- 
parition of  Minerva  to  Alaric,  iii. 
82  note.  His  ascription  of  female 
excesses  to  Christianity,  343  note. 
—  See  iii.  45,  48,  86,  96,  100,  248, 
336,  notes. 

ZuMPT  on  Cyrenius,  Procurator  of 
Syria,  i.  109.  On  the  effect  of  Chris- 
tianity on  population,  iii.  219  TWte. 


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